


the bro code (and Blaine Anderson's guide to breaking it)

by villiageidiot



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 07:24:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villiageidiot/pseuds/villiageidiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So there’s a bro code.  It’s relayed to him a few weeks after he joins his fraternity. The rules seem easy and he’s not too worried.  Blaine Anderson is a rule follower.</p><p>But then suddenly, there's this guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the bro code (and Blaine Anderson's guide to breaking it)

So there’s a bro code.

It’s relayed to him a few weeks after he joins his fraternity. The rules seem easy and he’s not too worried.

Blaine Anderson is a rule follower.

: : : : :

_ Rule #23 : Be thankful for yoga pants for they are a true blessing _

But then suddenly, there’s this _guy._

Blaine’s up early on a Saturday morning, way before anyone else in the house is up, and decides to check out the yoga class that the fitness gym offers to the undergrads for free. When he gets there —

There’s this guy. Wearing yoga pants. And he’s doing bendy things. Blaine watches as he sprawls out on his mat for a few minutes then does some more bendy things. Then he stretches and pulls and lunges before doing even _more_ bendy things. Basically, there is a lot of bending.

Blaine’s frozen and standing like, right in the middle of the doorway. People jostle around him to get inside the room and give him confused stares, probably wondering why he’s literally blocking the only entrance just staring at some guy. Blaine feels his face color and bolts before Yoga Pants has a chance to notice Blaine perving on him.

He walks back to his fraternity house and feels like a jackass for acting like a fourteen year old all over again, getting unexpectedly turned on in broad daylight _in front of people_ thanks to some random guy he doesn’t even know. Thanks to those damn pants, he can’t even show his face in the fitness gym.

Blaine hates yoga pants.

: : : : :

_ Rule #1 : A bro shalt not persist in gaining a gent’s attention if said gent brushes him off repeatedly. _

Blaine sees Yoga Pants just a few days later as he’s coming out of one of the buildings in the center of campus. He blinks a few times, totally not expecting a coincidental run-in with maybe one of the most attractive guys he’s ever seen _ever._

He picks up his pace to a quick jog to catch up and when he gets near enough, he smiles and says, “Hey! Hi!”

Yoga Pants looks startled for a moment then returns the smile. “Hi.” When Blaine doesn’t do anything but stand there and stare, Yoga Pants looks unsure. “I’m sorry, do we —”

“Know each other?” Blaine fills in. “No. I’m Blaine.”

He gives Blaine another small smile. “Kurt,” he says.

“Kurt,” he echoes. “Nice to meet you, Kurt.”

He sort of side-eyes Blaine and looks a little confused. “Likewise,” he says hesitantly.

“Would you join me for some coffee maybe? There’s a place right on the edge of campus, over by the courtyard.”

When Kurt doesn’t say anything, Blaine bumps up his grin a few notches.

“I’ve seen you around a couple of times and I — I don’t know, you just seem like the type of person that I’d like to get coffee with.”

Kurt lets out a quiet laugh. “Okay, sure —” he starts but then falters as his gaze settles on the three Greek letters stitched into Blaine’s sweater vest.

He clears his throat and suddenly starts walking again, not bothering to give Blaine a second glance.

“I don’t like coffee,” Kurt says finally.

Blaine stares after him, a little baffled, then jogs to catch up with him. “Who doesn’t like coffee?” he asks, teasing. “But okay, fine, they have hot tea and cold tea and flavored tea —”

“I don’t like tea,” Kurt interrupts. “Thanks for the offer but I’ll pass.”

“Okay,” Blaine says, undeterred. “They have smoothies and scones and cookies —”

“No,” he answers, picking up his pace.

Blaine matches his stride. “Water?” he tries. “They have bottled water.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything.

“You have to like water at least. Everyone likes water. It’s a necessity to like, being alive.”

Kurt stops and faces him. “Thanks for the offer,” he repeats. “But no.”

And with that, he turns and disappears into another building.

Blaine frowns after him but then shrugs it off and knows there’s always next time.

: : :

Next time ends up being just a few days later when they run into each other at the aforementioned coffee shop on the edge of campus, the one right by the courtyard. When Blaine opens the front door, they’re suddenly face-to-face.

He grins when he meets Kurt’s eyes. “Hi again.”

Kurt freezes and grips his coffee cup a little tighter. “Oh. It’s you.”

“So you changed your mind about the whole coffee thing?” he asks, gesturing to the cup in Kurt’s hand. “Because I mean, the last time we met I distinctly remember you telling me how much you didn’t like it.”

He gives Kurt a teasing grin but it’s not returned.

“Look, Blaine,” he sighs. “We’re in the middle of something and I don’t really have —”

“What?” the tiny brunette next to him says. “No, we’re not. We’re not in the middle of anything at all, Kurt.”

He shoots her a glare and Blaine can’t help but smile some more.

“Stay,” he tells the two of them. “I’ll buy some cookies and we can all get to know each other.”

“Can’t,” Kurt says, loosely gripping the brunette by the elbow and leading her towards the door. “In a rush.”

Blaine stares after them as they go.

“Who was _that?”_ she asks. “Kurt, he is _cute._ ”

“He can _hear_ you, Rachel,” he grits out quietly.

And then they’re gone.

Blaine shrugs. Next time.

: : :

The following Wednesday, Blaine’s late for his Musical Theory class and as he’s rushing towards the lecture hall, he nearly bumps into Kurt who’s coming out of a class just a few doors down.

“Kurt!” he says brightly. “Hi!”

Kurt blinks a few times, obviously thrown. “Blaine. God, are you everywhere?”

Blaine ignores him. “Today’s a perfect day for some iced coffee. Give me like, thirty five minutes?”

Kurt stares at him. “I’m late for class. I have to go.”

“You just left class,” Blaine points out, confused.

“I have another one,” he argues. “Right now. All night.”

“Okay,” Blaine says slowly. “Which building? I’ll come find you when I leave. Just to see if you’ve changed your mind.”

“I don’t remember which one,” Kurt says and god, he’s a _terrible_ liar and Blaine thinks it’s kind of adorable. “It’s far away.”

Blaine grins and takes a step closer. “It’d be easier if you maybe gave me your number?”

Kurt stares at him again. “My number.”

He nods and tries not to focus on how late he is for class.

Kurt almost starts to smile then shakes his head and laughs as he turns to make his way back down the hallway. “Goodbye, Blaine.”

Blaine smiles after him for a few moments before finally booking it to his class.

: : :

Three days later, there’s a big thing at the on-campus art gallery, a debut showing for some of the art students. It sounds kind of cool so Blaine decides to check it out but he has to go by himself since it’s not exactly something he can talk any of his fraternity brothers into. He can’t help beaming when he sees Kurt and the tiny brunette there, too.

“We meet again,” Blaine says to the two of them.

Kurt startles and glances over to meet Blaine’s eyes. “So you _are_ everywhere.”

“I’m Rachel,” the brunette says. “Kurt’s apparently forgotten his manners.”

Kurt rolls his eyes.

“And you are?” Rachel asks Blaine.

“Just my stalker,” Kurt answers for him. He gives Blaine a teasing smile when he says it, though, and oh my god, it’s borderline flirting.

“Also known as Blaine,” Blaine says, giving her a smile. “But I have a feeling my name hasn’t come up.”

“I’m Rachel,” she says again. “And since you’re as handsome as you are charming, I can’t imagine _why_ he’s failed to mention you,” she says.

“Me either,” Blaine agrees, giving Kurt a teasing smile of his own.

Kurt cocks his head and watches him for a few moments. “We’re just heading out —”

“We are?” Rachel interrupts.

“— so I hope you enjoy the show, Blaine.”

“Okay,” Blaine says, not breaking eye contact. “Well, until we meet again.”

Kurt laughs quietly. “Yes, until then.” He tugs Rachel away again.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” she asks Kurt as they head towards the door. “He’s flirting with you, Kurt. And he’s cute! And nice! And polite!”

“And in a _fraternity_ ,” Kurt interrupts, trying to keep his voice down. Blaine has to strain to hear them. “I like to think I’m a little too smart to fall for the wiles of a college frat guy, Rachel.”

They’re out of earshot after that but Blaine frowns after them. He never realized that being in a fraternity was a _bad_ thing. Now that he knows the reason behind Kurt’s hesitancy, though, he can at least figure out how to fix it.

: : :

On Wednesday, he decides to be a little late for Musical Theory and waits for Kurt outside the classroom. To his credit, Kurt only looks marginally surprised to see Blaine there waiting for him. He shakes his head to himself and walks towards the double doors at the end of the hallway.

“Hey, wait,” Blaine calls out after him, picking up his pace to follow after him. “Now I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.”

Kurt stops walking and turns to face him, mouth hanging open slightly. “Now? Just _now_ you’re realizing I’m avoiding you?”

Blaine’s smile fades a little and he tugs Kurt to the side of the hallway, out of the way of any traffic. “Okay, kidding aside, I really do want to have coffee with you some time, Kurt. Or — anything really. Water, cafeteria food, ice cream, whatever.” He watches Kurt intently, wants to make it clear that it’s sincere, no flirting or teasing.

Kurt notices the shift in his tone and sighs. “You seem nice, Blaine. And yes, you’re charming and funny and incredibly attractive —”

“Really?” Blaine asks with a shy smile.

“But you’re also in a fraternity and I know how that works.”

“You don’t, though,” Blaine insists, taking a small step forward. “You don’t know _my_ fraternity.”

“There’s a difference?” Kurt asks, eyebrow raised. It seems rhetorical so Blaine doesn’t answer.

“And you don’t know _me,”_ he continues. He keeps his eyes firmly trained on Kurt’s.

Kurt hesitates. “I know. But —”

“But what?” he asks, taking another step forward. “Just give me a chance.”

Kurt swallows. “Blaine —”

“What?” he asks quietly. “Just coffee. That’s all I’m asking.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything for a few moments. “I know what frat guys are like, Blaine. They’re into the chase and into sleeping around. They’re into no strings attached.”

Blaine shakes his head. “Not me. I’m not like that.”

Kurt ignores him. “It starts fun and flirty and ends up with me crying over a stupid boy.”

Blaine takes one more step until he’s totally and completely in Kurt’s personal space. “It won’t ever be like that. I swear it.”

Kurt watches him for a few more moments. “Okay, fine.”

“Really?” Blaine asks, eyes lighting up.

“Really,” Kurt answers, shifting a little to put some space in between them. “But just something simple, okay? Coffee or the cafeteria. Something casual.”

“The cafeteria,” Blaine scoffs. “That’s not a date.”

“I know,” Kurt says pointedly. “Because we’re not going on a date.”

Blaine stares at him.

“Casual,” Kurt repeats. “Something casual.”

After a minute Blaine agrees. “Okay, sure, we’ll start with that.”

Kurt shakes his head and laughs to himself. “I can’t believe I’m actually going through with this. He’s in a _fraternity._ ”

“I am,” Blaine nods. “And I’m also right here. I can hear you.”

Kurt looks up to meet his eyes. “Saturday,” he says. “I’ll see you Saturday. Noon at the coffee house.”

Blaine grins. “Okay. Can I finally get your number?”

Kurt turns to walk away but shoots him a teasing smile over his shoulder. “See you Saturday, Blaine.”

So Blaine starts a countdown for Saturday.

: : : : :

_ Rule #9 : Thou shall do minimal ‘research’ on a gent before going on a date with him. _

Blaine spends the next few days doing some very in-depth reconnaissance.

His first step is to learn what he can off of Facebook but he doesn’t even know Kurt’s last name so he spends an ungodly amount of time searching through all of the Kurts in the Midwest. He eventually stumbles upon _Kurt Hummel_ and he’s stoked that it only took him an hour and a half but his internal jubilation is short lived when he realizes that Kurt’s got his page pretty locked down. He ends up getting distracted and within the hour, he somehow finds himself caught in a black hole of Facebook wall posts, starting with Artie’s then Mike’s and then Tina’s, Mike’s new girlfriend.

And that’s where he has his first breakthrough. There, about two pages down, is a status post about Taylor Lautner that _Kurt Hummel_ has commented on.

Blaine shuts his laptop and runs downstairs, running through the house until he finds Mike playing video games in one of the living rooms.

“Mike,” he says, out of breath. “Where’s Tina?”

“Probably class,” he answers without looking away from the TV.

“Right,” Blaine says. “Can I have her number?”

Mike pauses the game then and looks over his shoulder to meet Blaine’s eyes. “Why?”

“Nothing. It’s — nothing.”

Mike stares at him.

“Just — recon.”

Mike eyes him a little more then turns back to the game. “No. You’re being weird.”

Blaine sighs.

“She’ll be over at eight, though.”

Blaine grins and waits impatiently until eight. When she finally gets there, he pulls her into the empty kitchen and says, “Hey, I need your help.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “With what?”

“Kurt Hummel,” he tells her. “Tell me everything you know.”

It’s not much, sadly. She says they share a drama class together and he wears a lot of pins. Oh, and he talks about his dad a lot. That’s legit all she gives him.

Blaine tries not to feel too defeated.

: : :

He sees Kurt the next afternoon in the library. He’s talking to some guy working behind the book returns desk. The guy is wearing a _beanie_.

“Who do you think that is?” Blaine whispers, leaning over the table so Wes can hear him better.

He gives Blaine an irritated sigh before glancing over his shoulder to look at Kurt. “Why do you think I would know the answer to that?”

Blaine ignores him. “Do they look like friends, do you think? Maybe best friends? Or do you think Kurt’s just asking him like, where the reference section is?”

Wes shakes his head and goes back to his Calculus book. “I won’t be listening to a word you say for the next few hours. Be advised.”

Blaine tries to focus on his English paper but glances up every few minutes to stare at Book Return Guy. Kurt’s still talking to him.

Okay, so probably not asking about the reference section then.

: : :

Blaine’s working in the Bio lab the next morning and when he glances up halfway through class, he can see Kurt through the open door talking to some blonde girl. He catches his lab partner, Santana, staring at them, too.

“You know them?” he leans over to ask quietly.

“Not yet,” she answers without looking away. “But I sure as shit will. I’ve been working on it.”

Blaine sighs, defeated again. No one can tell him anything, _god_.

“She’s a cheerleader,” Santana says. “Quinn something-or-other.”

Blaine gives her a confused look. “You don’t even know her last name?”

She laughs. “Who gives a fuck about last names.”

He sighs again. “I do. You don’t even know how many weirdos I had to search through on Facebook to find his last name.”

Santana looks over and gives him an appraising stare. “Tell you what. You do our lab paper next week and I’ll see what intel I can get from her. That girl will be waking up in my dorm room on my shitty twin bed before the week’s out.”

He gives her a hopeful smile. “You think you could do it by Saturday morning?” he asks.

She laughs again. “I work fast but not that fast.”

He shakes his head sadly. “Then no deal.”

: : :

“What if I ask that Rachel girl?” Blaine asks Wes later at the library. “She could probably help me out, tell me the things I need to know, how to win him over.”

Wes looks up and gives him an unamused stare. “So Blaine, tell me. What’s the difference between this in-depth reconnaissance and just actual stalking?”

Blaine frowns. “I’m not stalking him.”

“It’s a fine line,” Wes says, looking down to take some more notes. “And you, sir, are walking it.”

: : :

And then it’s Saturday morning and Blaine is woefully unprepared. He puts on his brightest bow-tie, leaves anything embroidered with his fraternity letters at home, and makes his way to the coffee shop.

: : : : :

_ Rule #27 : If you listen and sing along to Katy Perry on a regular basis, thoust man card shall be revoked. _

“You showed up!” Blaine says brightly when he gets there and sees Kurt already sitting at one of the back tables.

Kurt gives him a confused look. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

He shrugs and gives Kurt a small smile. “It’s just — well, maybe a little. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re a bit out of my league.”

“Out of your league,” Kurt echoes, face blank.

“Yeah, a bit,” Blaine says. “I’ll be right back; let me order my coffee.”

When he gets back to the table, Kurt looks a little irritated and like he’s already thinking about leaving. “If this whole  _ let’s get coffee _ thing just consists of you throwing dumb pick-up lines at me then I’ll go, Blaine.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I’m out of your league?” Kurt says, eyebrow raised.

“That’s a pick-up line guys use?” Blaine asks, surprised. “I didn’t know. I just — thought it and said it.”

Kurt sighs, looking placated but not really convinced. “So,” he says, changing the subject. “Why a fraternity? What was the allure?”

Blaine shrugs and takes a sip of his medium drip. “I don’t know,” he answers even though he kind of  _ does _ know. “I feel included there. Like I belong.”

Kurt waits even though Blaine doesn’t have much else to say.

“Middle school and high school — they were pretty rough. I didn’t fit in. I really wasn’t a part of any crowd or anything. There were a few after school clubs and the choir, sure, but it’s not like I was close to any of them. There wasn’t some sort of deep bond.” He plays with his coffee cup. “But here, they’re great, Kurt. They always make me feel important, included,  _ special.”  _ Okay, so apparently he  _ did _ have more to say.

Kurt hums but doesn’t say anything else.

“Okay, your turn,” Blaine says, trying not to feel embarrassed for unloading on a near stranger, one he’s still trying to impress. “Why the disdain? Why do you hate the idea of a fraternity?”

“I don’t hate them,” Kurt argues. “I just know how they work and it’s not my scene.”

Blaine grins. “You should be more open minded. What if the great, be-all-end-all one true love of your life is in a fraternity?”

Kurt gives him a skeptical look. “I doubt that.”

“Maybe, though,” Blaine teases.

“He’s not,” Kurt tells him. “I’m fairly confident.”

Blaine takes another drink and they watch each other for a few moments. “So. What are you studying?”

Kurt smiles, a real, genuine, bright smile. “Theater.” He pauses. “Or maybe fashion. I haven’t decided.”

“Well, we’re young,” Blaine says, shrugging. “We don’t need to have it all figured out yet. Or hey, maybe you could be both. The leading man onstage, costume designer backstage.”

Kurt ducks his head and laughs. “Sure, maybe.”

Blaine can barely look away. He can’t stop  _ staring _ . This guy — even his shy smile has him swooning.

“And you?” Kurt asks, looking up again.

“I haven’t decided either,” he answers. “Music maybe. Or art. Or education. Or I could take a theater class, see what that’s like.”

“You might want to narrow it down,” Kurt says, amused.

“I could be a flight attendant,” Blaine continues. “Or a weatherman. Or an animal trainer. Or maybe an astronomer. An actor.”

Kurt cocks his head and raises his eyebrow. “Okay, see now you’re just naming random professions.”

“The possibilities are endless, Kurt,” Blaine says, grinning. “The world is my oyster.”

“Spoken like an entitled rich fratboy,” Kurt says but there’s no heat behind it. He’s actually sort of laughing.

“No,” Blaine argues. “Spoken like an idealistic naive underclassman.”

Kurt grins back at him and they stare at each other for what seems like five minutes. Blaine’s heart feels like it’s beating double time.

After awhile, Kurt clears his throat and looks away. “I have to go,” he says suddenly.

“Wait what?” Blaine asks, trying not to let his disappointment seep through but he knows it doesn’t really work. “You haven’t even finished your coffee.”

“My Shakespeare essay won’t write itself,” Kurt explains, still not making eye contact.

“Oh,” he says. Blaine has a feeling it has more to do with their super intense eye contact than a dumb essay but he lets it go. He’s not  _ that _ pushy.

Kurt moves to grab his things and stand up.

“So what are you doing tomorrow?” Blaine asks.

Kurt doesn’t say anything.

“Monday? Tuesday?” he tries, sounding pretty lame. “Wednesday?” Okay so maybe he  _ is _ that pushy.

Kurt gives him a hesitant look and seems to have an internal debate with himself. “I eat lunch around one in the main cafeteria on Wednesdays.”

Blaine lights up. “Yeah?”

Kurt shakes his head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he says quietly to himself.

“Maybe I should get your number,” Blaine suggests, smiling up at him. “Just in case.”

Kurt returns the smile. “One thing at a time, Blaine.” He turns to head towards the front doors and Blaine stares after him.

“Wednesday!” he calls out before Kurt reaches the front. “Don’t forget.”

: : :

When Blaine gets to the cafeteria on Wednesday, Kurt’s already standing outside the entrance talking to some guy. A different guy than Mr. Book Return, a little older, but still wearing a beanie. What is it with these guys and _beanies_.

The guy gives Blaine a polite hello and a smile before he leaves and dammit, he’s _British_ , how the hell is Blaine supposed to compete with older guys that probably aren’t in a fraternity and have a classy accent?

“My T.A.,” Kurt explains. “He always seems to be here when I am. We must have the same schedule.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says, rolling his eyes. “That’s probably it.”

They grab their food and sit at one of the smaller tables in the corner. Kurt eyes his cardigan, Greek letters stitched into the pocket.

“Still sporting the frat-wear, I see,” Kurt says. “Showcasing it loud and proud.”

“And I see you’re still being Mr. Judgmental,” Blaine counters.

Kurt smiles and stares at his food.

“So do you even _know_ anyone in a fraternity? Or do you just hate them on principle?” Blaine asks as he takes a bite of something that sort of looks like meatloaf.

“Yes, I know people,” Kurt answers defensively. “My brother’s in a fraternity.”

Blaine frowns. “Oh, so is he like, an asshole or something?”

“What? No,” Kurt answers. “He’s a good guy. Infuriating sometimes maybe, but a good guy. He can’t clean toothpaste out of the sink but he’s — I don’t know. He’s genuine and sincere and that usually makes up for his lack of basic human hygiene.”

Blaine laughs. “I have a real brother, too. And he’s definitely _not_ a frat boy. He wouldn’t be able to share his personal space with anyone let alone live in a house with thirty other guys.”

“Well, he and I have that in common,” Kurt says, taking a bite of his food.

God, even Kurt _eating_ is sort of charming.

“I can’t imagine sharing my space with someone else. Closet space, bathroom counters, you name it,” he continues.

“I’m sure _someday,_ Kurt,” he replies with a teasing smile. “I think someday you’ll have to share your space with another guy. You should prepare yourself for that inevitability.”

“Someday a long, long, way away,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes. “I don’t think too many guys will be all that willing to deal with my strict color-coordinated closet layout or my controlled bathroom organizational scheme.”

“Someone will,” Blaine says softly. “Someone will think being with you is worth all of that and he will.”

Kurt is quiet and pushes around the pasta on his plate.

“So,” Blaine says, clearing his throat to break some of the awkward tension. “I’m assuming that means you don’t have a roommate now then? Are you in an off-campus apartment or do you have a single room in one of the dorms?”

“No, I have a roommate,” Kurt answers, finally meeting Blaine’s eyes again. “Brett. Or as my dorm calls him: Stoner Brett.”

“Stoner Brett?” Blaine asks, intrigued.

“He’s never there, though,” Kurt says. “He’s usually out with his stoner delinquent friends probably getting high in the back of a van.”

“Oh,” he says. “That sounds pretty terrible.”

Kurt shrugs. “Not really since he’s never there.”

“Aren’t there like, fast food wrappers lying around?” Blaine asks, a little grossed out. “Does the room smell like incense?”

“No,” Kurt says. “A few hoodies on the floor and a bed that’s never once been made, sure, but it’s not inhabitable. He doesn’t clutter up the closet with his Bob Marley t-shirts and cargo pants so it works out well enough.”

Blaine gives him a smile. “Guess I didn’t give you enough credit. Maybe you _are_ a little open minded.”

Kurt returns the smile. “Maybe. Maybe I’m just full of surprises.”

Blaine’s flirty smile falters slightly and he can’t stop his voice from turning sincere and quiet. “Well, maybe I can’t wait to learn them all.”

Kurt’s smile falters, too, but for an entirely different reason. “I should go,” he says. “I have class on the other end of campus.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, just as disappointed as he was the last time this happened. “So — I just — would you maybe get coffee again? On Saturday?”

He sighs and seems to have another internal debate with himself. “Sure. Saturday.”

Blaine beams. “Okay. I’ll see you then.”

Kurt watches him for a second like he’s looking for something but Blaine isn’t sure what it is. “See you then.”

“Don’t forget,” Blaine calls out after him.

: : :

On Saturday, he makes sure to get there before Kurt does. When he walks through the door, Blaine holds up one of the cups in his hand and says, “I bought your coffee.”

Kurt stares at him for a moment before heading towards the table instead of the counter. “You bought my coffee.”

“Yes,” Blaine tells him. “So it’s almost like a real date.”

Kurt eyes him as he takes a seat and says, “It’s not a real date. It’s not a date at all. It’s not even a _fake_ date, Blaine.”

Blaine shrugs.

“It’s coffee between friends,” Kurt reminds him.

Blaine smiles brightly. “We’re friends? Friends exchange numbers, you know.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “We’re not those kind of friends.”

He keeps smiling. Nothing Kurt can say could possibly bring his mood down. They’re _friends_ now _,_ apparently.

They get lost in conversation for almost an hour. They talk about Kurt’s dad (who sounds awesome), about his high school in Lima (which doesn’t sound awesome at all), about how he grew up working in his dad’s garage (which gives Blaine some awesome visuals), about his stint on the cheerleading squad (which gives him even more awesome visuals), and his stint on the football team (yeah, even more awesome visuals). All in all, Kurt’s somehow more fascinating than Blaine originally thought.

They talk about Blaine, too. They talk about middle school (basically awful), his high school years at a private academy (less awful but a little lonely), his parents (pretty cool), his brother (tolerable), and his love life (non-existent).

He’s kind of stunned to realize an hour and a half has already gone by when Kurt looks at his phone and says, “I really need to go.”

“Really?” Blaine asks, disappointed yet again. For the first time, though, it genuinely looks like Kurt has a reason to leave and isn’t just bolting because they shared some intense eye contact.

“I have to pick up my dry cleaning,” he explains. “They’re only open until two on the weekends.”

Blaine gives him a skeptical look. “You spend your money on dry cleaning?”

“Yes,” Kurt answers, eyebrow raised. “What else would I spend my money on?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine says, shrugging. “Normal college stuff like fast food or beer.” Admittedly, though, Kurt doesn’t strike him as the type of person that would buy either of those things.

Kurt gives him a look. “Do I strike you as the type of person who would buy either of those?”

“No,” Blaine admits. “But — but if you ever _did_ want to buy some beer, maybe you could stop by a party at our house and get some for free?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Kurt says. It sounds a whole lot like _hell no._

“You could think about it at least?” Blaine suggests. “We’re having one on Saturday.”

Kurt gives him a thoughtful look. “And how many guys did you ask before me?”

Blaine gives him a quizzical look. “Uh, none. Why?”

He shrugs. “I’m just assuming you have a different guy in each department. You’ve got me in the drama department, Sebastian as the business major, god knows who else.”

Blaine wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Sebastian. How do you even know him? Like I would ever go on non-dates in a coffee shop with _him_.”

Kurt watches him like maybe he’s trying to gauge how honest he’s being.

“And whatever, Kurt, right back at you,” Blaine continues. “How many casual non-dates do you go on every week? I’m your Saturday coffee shop non-date and sort of angling for your Wednesday cafeteria non-date but who else is in there? How many other guys are vying for your attention?”

Kurt looks taken aback. “I — no one. I’m not really interested in casual non-dates, Blaine, not with one person or with several.”

“Me either,” Blaine says pointedly. “I don’t like casual either.”

Kurt stares at him for several moments. “It’s still a no on your party,” he says quietly. “Go have a fun time with any number of the curious straight boys that will inevitably throw themselves at you after they toss a few Heinekens back. ”

Blaine ignores the implication and simply says, “I’ll do the same thing I always do, I’m sure. I’ll sit on the couch and watch Sam and Puck lose at beer pong to a couple of random sorority girls.”

Kurt raises his eyebrow and gathers his things together. “Sounds fascinating.”

He shrugs. “Mike usually sits by me but now he spends his whole night pretending to watch as he texts his girlfriend the entire time.” And then the thought strikes him and he lights up. “Okay, if you give me _your_ number then I can text _you_ all night.”

Kurt watches him and slowly smiles.

“It’s a pretty good idea,” Blaine insists.

Kurt shakes his head and laughs. “Goodbye, Blaine.”

He sighs to himself and feels disappointed for a minute but then Kurt says, “I’ll see you Wednesday. I’ll wait by the doors.”

Blaine grins but Kurt’s gone before he can say anything else.

: : :

On Wednesday, Blaine shows up to the cafeteria before Kurt gets there and waits by the cash register as he watches Kurt say hello to British Beanie T.A. outside the front doors. When Kurt finally makes his way inside and grabs a salad, Blaine holds up a water bottle from his spot by the register.

Kurt meets him to pay and gives him an unamused glare.

“I bought you a water,” Blaine tells him.

“Still not a date,” Kurt responds immediately.

As they take their seats at that same back table, Blaine thinks for a moment. “How about karaoke? Can that be a date?”

“What?” Kurt asks with a blank stare.

“Friday,” Blaine clarifies. “We’re all going to the karaoke bar downtown. You could come?”

Kurt blinks. “You sing?”

“Yeah,” Blaine scoffs. “Don’t you remember the part about me being in choir?”

Kurt watches him for a few long moments and cocks his head. “Okay,” he says, “Are you going to Callbacks? Because I’ll already be there. A few friends and I go on Fridays.”

“Oh,” Blaine says.

“Does that work?”

“Yeah,” he says, a little breathless. This is seriously almost practically totally a _date._ Minus the fact that all of Kurt’s friends and all of Blaine’s fraternity will be there. But whatever, details.

“Okay,” Kurt says.

Then there’s some more of that awkward, intense eye contact and Blaine is silent.

“I have to go,” Kurt says suddenly. “I’m tutoring someone over at the library.”

Blaine inwardly groans. It’s probably Book Returns Guy. With his stupid _beanie._

“Okay,” Blaine tells him after a few moments. “Well, I’ll see you Friday for our non-date at the karaoke bar.”

“Right,” Kurt replies. “The non-date.”

They stare at each other some more.

“Don’t forget,” Blaine says.

Finally the mood is broken and Kurt laughs to himself. “Bye, Blaine.”

: : :

It’s not until they’re piling into Mike’s minivan that Blaine realizes the inherent flaw to his plan. He spends the car ride to Callbacks losing his shit.

He’s spent weeks — _weeks_ — trying to prove to Kurt Hummel that he’s not some stereotypical d-bag frat guy and now that he’s finally seeing him for the first time ever off campus, he’s bringing along his entire frat? Full of borderline stereotypical d-bag frat guys?

“I did not think this through,” he says quietly to himself. “I’m so screwed.”

Thankfully, Kurt’s not there yet when they all arrive and sit at a big table at the front right by the stage. He tries to subtly look around every once in awhile to see if Kurt’s shown up because he’s so not going up on stage until Kurt arrives. When he finally _does_ get there, Blaine’s relieved to see that he sits at one of the tables in the far back under one of the lights. The angle is just right because no one from his table would be able to see him and bonus, Kurt’s far enough way that he won’t hear the dirty jokes (Puck, sometimes Sam) or the occasional accidental misogynist comment (Artie) or the constant objectifying of every waitress that comes within a ten foot radius (usually Finn) or even just the actual heated fights about fictional video games (all of them).

He sighs with relief. He’ll let his brothers meet Kurt when he’s pretty confident that Kurt likes him enough to put up with them.

Twenty minutes later, he’s on stage, microphone clutched tightly in his hands and pumped to see that his view from the stage is perfect. He can stare right at Kurt, watch him intently as he sings every word. When the first few chords play, he meets Kurt’s eyes and grins when he sees that he’s staring right back.

He sings with more feeling than he ever has in his entire life and never stops smiling. He tells Kurt _I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece._ He says _my heart stops when you look at me_ and he sings _this is real so take a chance and don’t ever look back._ He beams at Kurt, not able to tear his eyes away and says _you make me feel like I’m living a teenage dream._

When the song stops, he just stands there and stares at Kurt who looks totally stunned.

“Your man card,” Puck says as soon as Blaine hops off the stage. He makes a gesturing motion and says, “Give it.”

“What?” Blaine asks, confused.

“You just sang Katy Perry. _On purpose_. You lost your man card,” Puck explains. “You’re not getting this shit back until you earn it.”

“Okay, fine, whatever,” Blaine says, rolling his eyes. “It’s yours. But can I —”

“Who’s back there, anyway?” Finn says, turning in his chair and squinting into the lights, trying to see who it is Blaine’s been serenading for the past four minutes.

“No one,” Blaine says quickly.

Artie side-eyes him. “Please tell me you know he’s gay. If you just sang pop music to some karaoke bar random, shit’s gonna get awkward fast.”

“Who is he?” Finn asks.

Blaine sighs. “Yes, he’s gay. And don’t worry about it. You’re not meeting him yet.”

“Why?” Finn asks suspiciously. They’re all looking at him now.

“Just — not yet. You wouldn’t know him anyway. He’s a theater major.”

He’s getting antsy, wasting time standing with the fraternity brothers _that he sees everyday_ when he could be heading towards Kurt’s table in the back, trying to subtly find out if Kurt liked it, if he thought Blaine was any good, if he maybe possibly swooned.

“I know theater majors,” Finn argues defensively. “My brother’s a theater major.”

“Okay, sure, fine,” Blaine says, waving him away. “I’ll be back. Don’t leave without me.”

When he finally makes his way to the back, Blaine finds that Kurt and his table full of friends are all sort of staring at him.

“That was …” Kurt tries. His face is flushed and he seems almost dazed.

“So you liked it?” Blaine asks hopefully.

Kurt opens his mouth to answer but then looks like he can’t figure out what to say. Suddenly, he’s out of his chair right in Blaine’s personal space and — and _kissing him._

Kurt’s hands wrap around Blaine’s neck to pull him in and it’s only a few moments until Blaine gets with the program. He grabs Kurt’s hips and tugs him closer and _oh my god they are kissing_. Kurt’s breathing goes shallow and Blaine’s mouth chases after Kurt’s after every time he tries to pull away.

There’s a loud collective clearing of throats and Blaine reluctantly releases Kurt from his tight grasp. The girls are all looking at them and Blaine feels his cheeks get pink as the self-consciousness kicks in.

“I don’t know how often you serenade other guys in karaoke bars but part of me doesn’t even care right now,” Kurt says quietly, eyes wide.

“Never,” Blaine tells him. “I swear it.”

Kurt stares at him. “For some reason, I believe you.”

He notices Kurt looking at his mouth and he can’t help but get flustered.

“Well, I should — I just wanted to say hi. See if you — I don’t know, just to see if you liked it or — I mean. I can let you get back to —” Blaine stammers.

“Okay,” Kurt says, swallowing thickly and staring . “We’re — apparently we’re leaving but maybe —”

“Tomorrow?” Blaine tries. “Would you — do you want to get coffee again?”

“Sure,” Kurt says, nodding. “It’s — it’s a date.”

Blaine’s mouth falls open. “Wait. It’s a what?”

Rachel tugs Kurt away right then, pulling him towards the door, and Blaine can’t see his face.

“A date?” Blaine calls out after them. “You called it a date, right?”

There’s some laughing.

“Good night, Blaine,” Kurt says, tossing him a coy smile over his shoulder.

“He said a date,” Blaine says quietly to himself. “I’m pretty sure he called it a date.”

: : :

The next morning, Blaine sits in the chair right next to Kurt after they grab their coffee, not the one directly across from him. It probably looks weird but whatever, he’s finally able to do that now.

“So just to be really clear,” Blaine starts as he looks over to meet Kurt’s eyes. “This is a date.”

Kurt smiles. “This is a date.”

Blaine cocks his head. “The kind where I get to hold your hand and get your number afterward?”

He laughs. “Yes, that kind.”

Blaine links their hands together under the table. “And then we make out in your empty dorm room?” he asks hopefully.

Kurt’s smile falls. “Thanks for cheapening the moment,” he sighs.

“I’m not cheapening anything,” Blaine argues. “It’s a genuine question.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow.

“And I am genuinely interested in your response.”

He takes a sip of his coffee. “Let’s not rush anything, Blaine. Or are frat boys even capable of taking it slow?”

“We are,” Blaine answers then considers the question again. “Okay, well, _I_ am.”

Kurt gives him a hesitant look. “Can you? Do you really think so?”

Blaine grins and leans in close. “Watch me.”

: : : : :

__

_ Rule #12 : There is a difference between celebrating and gloating. Act accordingly. _

Despite their conversation, they don't take it all that slow but it's as much Kurt's fault as it is Blaine's. It's not like they're constantly fooling around or sleeping with each other yet; it's just that they're with each other  _constantly_ .

“Let's go the library,” Blaine suggests one afternoon. They have class in an hour but he's not quite ready to say goodbye yet.

“Now?” Kurt asks, confused. “You have class in an hour on the opposite end of campus.”

He shrugs. “I can still get some studying in before then.”

So they spend as much time as they can in the library, chairs barely a few inches away from each other. Blaine glances around every once in awhile to see if Book Returns Beanie is around.

“You look fantastic today, by the way,” Blaine says, leaning in close.

“Thank you,” Kurt says, giving him a pleased smile.

“That sweater is just -- wow.”

Kurt's still smiling. “You said blue was your favorite color, so.”

“It is,” he agrees, moving in even closer. “And whatever color shirt you're wearing under those first three layers, that's my other favorite color.”

Kurt laughs and nudges him away. “Stop it. Don't you have studying to do?”

Blaine shrugs. “I know it all anyway,” he lies.

“You do not,” Kurt scoffs.

Blaine smiles. “I have all night to study,” he says quietly, breath ghosting along Kurt's neck.

“Stop,” Kurt says again, gently shoving him away.

Blaine smile falls and he's immediately ashamed. Oh my god, what part of throwing himself at Kurt is  _taking it slow_ ? He feels like such an ass.

Kurt must read his internal guilt because he leans in and whispers, “I mean  _here,_ Blaine. Just -- here in public. That's all I meant.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, grinning again. “Well, in that case, I don't have to study _all_ night.”

So he goes back to studying but still makes sure look around for Books Return guy again every five minutes. Kurt catches him once or twice but doesn't say anything.

: : :

“Mercedes told me about this Italian restaurant she went to last week,” Kurt tells him a few days later when they're getting coffee. “We should go. She said it's within walking distance but that it's far enough way that nobody from school really goes.”

They go that weekend and when they get there, they see she wasn't lying. It's sort of hidden and looks a little rundown from the outside but once they get inside, it's pretty charming. It's not too heavily lit and there's some soft piano music coming from somewhere. They're seated in a back corner and it feels secluded, just the two of them far away from the rest of the world.

“This is perfect,” Kurt says quietly as he looks around and takes in the chandeliers, the candles in the center of the table, the artwork on the wall.

“Yes, it is,” Blaine whispers back as he watches Kurt.

: : :

“I could go for some cafeteria food,” Blaine says.

“Really?” Kurt asks, wrinkling his nose with distaste. “Why?”

Blaine shrugs. “You have a few free hours before your next class, right? You'll join me?”

“I guess,” Kurt answers, still a little confused.

When they get there, Blaine immediately looks around for British T.A. but no luck. After they pay for their food and take a seat at one of the smaller tables, he looks again but still, he's nowhere to be found.

He looks black to Kurt who's watching him carefully.

“What?” Blaine asks.

Kurt's quiet. “Nothing,” he says after moment.

They eat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until Blaine pushes his tray towards Kurt. “Try this,” he tells him.

He eyes the food suspiciously. “Why? What is it?" 

“I don't know,” Blaine answers. “That's why I want you to try it.”

Kurt finally takes a small bite then frowns as he swallows it. “I have no idea,” he says. “I genuinely have no idea.”

Blaine quickly steals a forkful of Kurt's mashed potatoes then pulls his tray back and starts eating again.

Kurt blinks. “So this is something we're doing now?” he asks.

Blaine gives him a quizzical look.

“Sharing our food?”

“Oh,” Blaine says after he swallows the potatoes. “Is -- was that okay?” Maybe that's something you're supposed to wait to do like after a few months of dating or something. Maybe Blaine's pushing too fast again.

“It's fine,” Kurt's quick to say. “I just wanted to make sure before I steal your fruit.”

He laughs as Kurt leans over and grabs strawberries from his tray before Blaine can stop him.

He wants British T.A. to see them like this, casual and familiar and flirty. He glances around, though, and still no luck.

: : :

“How about a movie?” Kurt suggests one Friday afternoon. “That superhero one.”

Blaine's confused. “Which one?”

Kurt shrugs. “The one where they probably save the world at the end. They're all the same, aren't they?”

“No,” Blaine scoffs. “And anyway, that came out like, a month ago. The theater will be deserted.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow.

“We'll be all alo-- oh,” Blaine realizes. “Yes, totally. Let's do that.”

: : :

“Let's go make out in the reference section,” Blaine whispers the next time they're studying at the library.

“What?” Kurt asks, scandalized. “ _No_.”

Blaine looks over Kurt's shoulder to where Book Returns guy is walking through the aisles with a cart as he places books back on the shelf. “It'll be romantic.”

He looks skeptical. “That's romantic?” Kurt asks.

“Definitely,” Blaine argues. “It happens in all the good romance movies. They're always making out in darkened libraries or in the rain or in creepy back alleys. It's always stuff you think sounds like the opposite of romance until you're actually doing it.”

Kurt considers his logic then glances over his shoulder to see who Blaine's looking at but Books Return guy is gone. “Okay,” he says hesitantly.

Blaine tries not to look too surprised. He tugs Kurt along as they make their way to the very back corner and he hopes that there's a reference book on that cart because _god_ does he want that guy to see the two of them all alone back here, to let him know in some weird passive-aggressive way that Kurt's off the market.

“You're right,” Kurt says, breathless, as Blaine has him pushed up against some civil law textbooks. “This is surprisingly romantic.”

“See?” Blaine says, Books Return guy long, long forgotten.

: : :

“Brett's out tonight if you're free?” Kurt suggests one afternoon as they're sitting in Kurt's dorm room, both studying for upcoming exams.

Blaine hesitates. “Do you want to get ice cream first or something? We've never been to that place downtown.”

Kurt lets out an irritated sigh and closes his textbook. “What's up with you?” he asks. “Why do we always need to be around people? Why is everything so  _public_ ?”

“What does that mean?” Blaine asks back.

“It means -- I don't know,” Kurt answers, frustrated. “I don't understand you sometimes.”

“What's there to understand?” he says, confused.

“It's like -- sometimes I feel like you're showing me off, parading me around. And then other times I feel like I'm your dirty little secret.”

Blaine blinks. “I make you feel like a dirty secret.”

“Sometimes,” Kurt says. “When we're out together, you're always looking around. You're always looking for something. Or some _one_. I don't know if you're looking out for someone from your fraternity or -- who knows, some secret boyfriend you have.”

Blaine lets out a resigned sigh. “I don't have a secret boyfriend. As for my frat brothers -- sort of. I'm not hiding you from them, Kurt, but I'm still trying to hide  _them_ from  _you_ .”

Kurt watches him, still looking a little annoyed.

“I just wanted to wait until you liked me, like really really liked me, until I exposed you to them.”

Kurt relaxes a little. “Well then what's with you? Why the constant surveillance when we're together?”

Blaine sighs again but this time more embarrassed. “I guess sometimes I  _am_ sort of looking out for people. People that I  _want_ to see us.”

“What? Who?” he asks, confused.

“Just people,” Blaine says. “People that maybe might have a thing for you, I don't know. I figured that if they saw us, how we are together, then maybe -- I don't know, Kurt. It sounds stupid.”

Kurt's quiet.

“And maybe I _am_ showing you off,” Blaine continues. “And I'm sorry. But I'm in a fraternity and every one knows what kind of people frat guys hook up with. They date drunk sorority girls or the vapid cheerleaders. They don't date people like _you_ , the cultured, smart, talented type of people. So maybe, yes, sometimes I like to show people that we're dating, that you want to be with me.”

Kurt's still quiet.

“And what about you?” Blaine asks, trying not to feel hurt. “Why do you never want to be out with me? Are you that embarrassed that you'll only be with me alone in your dorm or in a darkened empty movie theater?”

“I'm not embarrassed by you,” Kurt insists as he shifts closer to Blaine on the floor. “I just like being alone with you.”

Blaine watches him. “But why? If you're not embarrassed, why do we always have to be alone?”

Kurt's cheeks flush and he looks at his hands. “Because I like being  _alone_ with you, Blaine. Don't make me spell it out.”

“Oh,” Blaine says dumbly. “I just thought --”

“I know what you thought.”

“And what you said about taking it slow --”

“I know what I said.”

Blaine scoots a little closer to Kurt until they're side by side. “Oh. Okay. Well then I say we should be all alone all of the time. Like, always.”

Kurt gives him a small smile. “I trust you. For some reason, I do.”

Blaine grins. “Good. And I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that.”

“I know,” Kurt replies, still smiling.

And it's time, Blaine thinks. He'll introduce Kurt to the fraternity and no matter what unintentional offensive comments Finn and Artie say, no matter what douchey thing Puck does, Blaine's finally confident that Kurt will stick around.

: : : : :

_Rule #3 : Thou shall not chase a gent if thine friend has already called dibs. No siblings or exes allowed._

And then.

And then it all implodes.

Blaine’s folding laundry in the living room when he hears a familiar voice coming from the front door.

“Hello?” the voice says. “The door is open. I’m coming in.” The voice gets quiet. “God, these walls need to be disinfected. This _house_ should be disinfected.”

Blaine hops off the couch to head to the main hallway and sure enough:

“Kurt!” he says, brightly. “How — I can’t believe you’re here.” The fact that Kurt came to his frat house — willingly even — is sort of huge. Blaine tries to tamper down his excitement.

But Kurt is frozen. He looks blindsided. “Oh. I didn’t — this is — how did I never make this connection before?”

“What connection?” Blaine asks, taking a few steps forward since Kurt seems incapable of making those last few steps into the living room.

“Yes, you totally came!” Finn says from somewhere behind Blaine.

As he pushes past Blaine to get to Kurt, Blaine watches the two of them, confused.

Finn grabs something from Kurt’s hands, a few boxes of something. “Girl Scout cookies, Blaine. He bought me Girl Scout cookies.”

“Calm down,” Kurt tells him, rolling his eyes. “You still owe me. These weren’t easy to find.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Finn says, already tearing open a box of Thin Mints.

Kurt watches him, forehead wrinkling in distaste. “Do you even _chew,_ Finn? Do you realize how dangerous it is to just inhale your food?”

Finn ignores him and holds the box out to Blaine. “Cookie?”

But Blaine just stares at the two of them. He can’t move and he feels Kurt watching him.

Finn eyes him warily after a few moments. “You okay?”

Blaine tries to snap out of it and clears his throat. “How do you two …”

Finn’s still giving him a weird look. “My brother. I told you my brother went here, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Blaine says quietly. He tries to clear his head and it’s not working. There’s an overwhelming sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

“Have you two never met?” Finn asks. “My bad. Kurt, this is Blaine, one of my frat brothers. Blaine, this is Kurt, my actual brother. Well, basically.”

“Actually,” Kurt starts, smiling at Blaine. “We already—”

“We met,” Blaine rushes to say. “Right before you came in. Just now. For the first time.”

Kurt blinks. “Oh. We — we did?”

“Yes,” Blaine says, eyes wide. “And it was — it was really nice meeting you, Kurt. But I — now I have to go.”

He hurries out of the room and up the stairs without a backward glance to Kurt. He can’t even look Finn in the eye.

He closes the door to his room, thankfully empty, and sits on his bed. He is so screwed.

: : :

He gets a text from Kurt ten minutes later. _Are you okay? What was that all about?_

Blaine stares at his phone for five whole minutes before typing back: _We need to talk._

: : :

They meet at the coffee shop the next day.

“Hi,” Kurt says brightly as he nears the table that Blaine’s been sitting at for the past fifteen minutes.

“Hey,” Blaine replies. His voice sounds dull and resigned.

Kurt’s smile falters. “Are you okay?” He takes his seat and watches Blaine, who can’t meet his eyes.

“No,” he says quietly. “Not really.”

“Oh,” Kurt says. “What’s going on? Can I help?”

Blaine shakes his head miserably. Instead of beating around the bush, he comes right out with it. “I can’t see you anymore, Kurt. We — we can’t do this.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow and gives him an amused look. “Does this have anything to do with Finn? Trust me, he’s fine with it.”

“You told him about us?” Blaine asks, wide-eyed.

“No,” Kurt says slowly, confused. “But he’s fine with me. You know, dating. He’s actually been trying to set me up with some guy he knows from his history class.”

Blaine’s stomach starts to feel worse than it already does. God, he’s going to have to see Kurt dating someone. Someone that’s not Blaine. What if he sees them on campus? What if they show up together at one of the frat parties? What if —

“Which is sweet, I think. Weird but sweet. I can’t even imagine the type of guy Finn would try to set me up with.” Kurt leans in closer over the table and gives Blaine a flirty smile. “I should ask him if he knows any available single guys in his fraternity.”

“Don’t,” Blaine says quickly. “Don’t do that.”

Kurt sits back. “Okay,” he says, eying Blaine warily. “I was kidding. I don’t want to be set up with anyone. You and I — I know that we’re … I don’t know. Something. We’re _something.”_

Blaine looks down at his hands. “Kurt.”

“Yes?” he asks, still looking confused.

“I’m serious,” he says quietly. “We can’t see each other anymore.”

Kurt gives a skeptical laugh but he starts to look a little unsure. “I’m serious, Blaine. He doesn’t care.”

“He _does_ care,” Blaine says forcefully, meeting Kurt’s eyes. “And he _will_ care, if he ever finds out. Which he can’t.”

“I don’t — what are you talking about? Why are you so upset?”

“Do you even know how he talks about you?” Blaine asks. He can feel his heartbeat pick up, his stomach jump. “He calls you his little brother sometimes —”

“I’m not a _little brother,_ ” he interrupts, looking insulted.

“Well he _think_ s you are, okay? When he talks about his brother, he always sounds so protective and like he’s responsible for your well-being or something. I just — god, I never knew he was talking about _you_.”

“So what?” Kurt asks, starting to look annoyed. “He’s protective when it comes to high school kids throwing me into lockers, Blaine. Not when it comes to my dating life.”

Blaine lets out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t you get it, Kurt? It’s like the number one rule. There are people that are off-limits. It’s one of the first things they tell you when you join the fraternity. No exes, no siblings. When it comes to dating, they’re off the table. It’s a _rule._ It’s the main one. The most important one.”

Kurt looks more and more confused. “Blaine, I’m telling you, he won’t care.”

“Yes, he will,” Blaine grits out. “They all will. Are you not getting the severity of this?”

Kurt blinks and leans back into his chair. “Wait, you’re serious.”

“Yes,” Blaine tells him sadly. “I’m serious. Incredibly serious.”

Kurt’s mouth falls open and he’s quiet for a moment.

“Kurt,” he starts. But he’s not sure what to say.

“Oh my god,” Kurt says, letting out a bitter laugh. “How did I not see this coming?”

Blaine watches him.

“Oh my god,” he says again. “Of course. Of _course.”_

“I’m so sorry,” Blaine apologizes. “I hate this. It’s —”

“Stop,” Kurt tells him. “I get it. I get it now.”

“You don’t, though,” Blaine pleads.

Kurt shakes his head and moves to stand up. “I can’t believe I fell for this,” he says to himself. “I thought I was smarter than that.”

“No, it’s not like that,” Blaine rushes to add. “I know what you’re thinking and —”

“What I’m thinking is that you win, Blaine. Congratulations. You liked the chase and as soon as you got your — your _conquest_ — you lost interest.” He looks miserable and embarrassed.

Blaine stands up and moves to follow him. “I swear that’s not what this is about. Please just —”

Kurt turns and gives him an angry look. “You,” he says, voice shaky. “You are such a cliché, Blaine Anderson.”

He turns again and heads towards the door.

“Kurt,” Blaine weakly calls out after him. Kurt doesn’t look back but Blaine doesn’t even know what he’d say if he did.

: : : : :

_ Rule # 7 : Thou shall not bring down everyone else’s night if thou is having a bad night. Get out or get happier and deal with the shit tomorrow, basically. _

So life sucks. Blaine doesn’t really tell anyone about how much his life sucks but good god do they all know anyway.

A group of them are sitting in the main living room and for some reason, _The Notebook_ is on in the background. They’re eating pizza from that place Blaine hates, the one that uses too much crust and not enough sauce.

He picks at the cheese and can’t bring himself to eat.

“Are you gonna bitch about the crust again, Anderson?” Puck asks. “Get the fuck over it. The pizza is five bucks and I’d rather spend my cash on a keg.”

“No,” Blaine says irritably. “But why are we watching this?”

_The Notebook_ is Kurt’s favorite movie and thinking about Kurt is basically all he does all day, every day so things like this don’t help.

“I’m with Blaine,” Finn says. “Put some hockey on or something. My brother makes me watch this dumb movie every month.”

Blaine glares at the back of Finn’s head.

“But — but Rachel McAdams. She gets naked,” Artie says. And as an afterthought, he gives Blaine a look and adds, “And like, Ryan Gosling, right?”

Blaine sighs. “Who cares.”

Mike gives him a look. “What’s with you?”

“Nothing,” he says, picking at his cheese some more.

“Yeah, okay,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. “I might be dumb but not dumb enough to see that you’ve been moping for the past two weeks.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not moping.” He is totally moping.

“You need to get laid,” Puck says, grabbing a few more pieces of pizza.

“I know this guy,” Artie starts. “He’s in my English class.”

“No,” Blaine says immediately. Not only is he pretty hung up on Kurt but ugh, no way does he trust Artie’s taste.

“What about the guy that works at the cafeteria?” Sam asks. “The one that’s always eying you?”

“He’s like, sixty,” Blaine grimaces.

“There’s Sebas—”

“No,” Blaine says quickly. “Definitely no.”

Finn shrugs. “Sorry, bro. I only know one gay dude and I’ve been talking him up to my brother.”

Blaine tenses and sits up a little straighter on the couch. “Are they dating?”

“No,” Finn says, eyes on the movie. “Not yet.”

Blaine slumps again and watches Noah and Allie make out in the rain on the TV. “I thought we were supposed to be watching hockey,” he tells them. He gets up before anyone can answer and throws his pizza away.

: : :

Blaine’s in his room studying on Friday, trying to ignore the party going on downstairs. Mike comes into the room to grab a sweater.

“You okay?” he asks Blaine. “Come down and grab a beer.”

He sighs. “No thanks. I have to finish this.”

Mike nods and then pauses. “Why aren’t you at the library?”

Blaine shrugs. “I don’t feel like it. It’s too far.”

Mike give him a quizzical look. “It’s like, five minutes.”

“I don’t feel like it,” Blaine repeats, turning back to his textbook.

As he reaches the door, he hesitates and gives Blaine another look. “You sure you’re okay, Blaine? You’ve been weird lately.”

“I’m fine,” Blaine sighs again. “Go back downstairs. I just want to be alone.”

: : :

He sees Kurt for the first time in the cafeteria. He’s eating lunch with Rachel and he doesn’t look at Blaine once.

“You’ve been weird as hell,” Artie tells him as he wheels to a table by the door. “What’s your deal?”

“No deal,” Blaine says as he follows.

“You’re a shitty liar,” Artie says.

He sighs. “It’s nothing.”

Artie waits, silent.

Blaine’s quiet for awhile. “There was this guy.”

Artie waits some more and takes a few bites of his food.

“And I just — I messed it up but there’s not really anything I can do about it, either.”

He gives Blaine a considering look. “Well, then man up. Either do something about it or don’t. The whole house thinks you’re batshit and I can’t imagine that this guy thinks depression is sexy.”

Blaine glances up to watch Kurt for a minute. And naturally, that's when British Beanie T.A. walks up to join him and Rachel.

He looks away and tries to stab some corn with his fork.

“Right,” Artie says as he watches Blaine attack his food. “Or you can keep acting batshit. There’s always that.”

: : :

“We need a fourth player,” Sam says as he comes into Blaine’s room without knocking.

“No,” Blaine tells him, not even asking what they’re playing.

“Dude, what is your _deal_?” Sam asks, leaning against the door frame. “Everyone thinks you’re losing it and no one wants to come near you.”

Blaine lets out an irritated sigh. “That’s fine. Let me wallow in my self-pity alone, then.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Come down when you’re not all emo.”

: : :

Finn sits next to him in the cafeteria a few days later. Blaine feels sort of panicky since he still can’t quite look him in the eye.

“Look,” Finn says. “Are you having like, a total breakdown? People are worried.”

“I’m fine,” he says quickly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Finn shrugs and starts to eat. “You can have a breakdown, you know. I’m not going to judge.”

“I know,” Blaine says sadly. “It’s just. It’s complicated.”

“I get it,” Finn tells him. “It’s a guy thing, right? You look like some dude just broke up with you.”

“What?” Blaine asks, wide-eyed. “I wasn’t —”

“It’s cool,” Finn says. “I know something went down and you don’t have to say what. But just know everyone is here for you. You don’t have to be so secretive about it.”

“Thanks, Finn, I mean it. But—”

“I have your back, Blaine. I hope you know that. If anyone messed with you, we’d _all_ have your back. I’d back you up just like I’d back up my own brother. Ask him.”

“What?” Blaine asks, swallowing nervously.

“Ask him,” Finn repeats. “If anybody screwed with him in high school, I was on it. And that’s how the whole house feels about you.”

He nods and pokes his food. He knows the words are supposed to be comforting but all he can hear is Finn telling him that anyone that messes with his brother is totally screwed.

: : :

The chapter president, Wes, calls him into his room on Monday.

“You’ve been upset,” he comments.

Blaine shrugs. “A little.”

“Are you letting your grades slip?”

“No,” Blaine answers.

Wes watches him, face expressionless.

“It’s just been a rough month, Wes,” Blaine tells him. “I’ll get over it.”

Wes frowns. “Will you?”

He nods and figures Wes is just as unconvinced as Blaine is.

: : : : :

_ Rule #16 : When receiving a text that says “heyyyy”, proceed with caution. Extra y’s means drunken shenanigans ahead. _

A few weeks after the whole coffee shop discussion, Blaine reaches his breaking point. He waits outside one of Kurt’s classes, figuring that’s the only way he’ll get Kurt to talk to him.

When the door opens and the students filter out, he hurries to catch up to Kurt and says, “Hey.”

Kurt looks over, startled, and his expression immediately turns into a look of irritation. “Go away,” he says.

“Wait,” Blaine says, voice quiet. “I just want to talk to you for a minute.”

“I’m not interested,” Kurt tells him. He won’t even meet Blaine’s eyes.

“Give me five minutes,” he pleads. “Five.”

Kurt huffs out a skeptical laugh and rolls his eyes. “Leave me alone, Blaine.”

“If that’s what you — look, I will, okay? But give me five minutes first.”

Kurt pauses and turns to face Blaine. He’s hopeful for a moment, actually thinking that Kurt might hear him out, but it’s short-lived.

“Lose my number,” Kurt tells him with an icy glare. “Stop watching me in the cafeteria. Don’t wait outside my classrooms. Just leave me alone.”

Blaine stares at him sadly. “It’s really not what you think it is, Kurt. I swear to you. I wouldn’t do that. I’m _not_ a cliché.”

Kurt looks away and Blaine wills him to meet his eyes again but it doesn’t work. “You are,” Kurt says quietly. “And worse, you made me one, too.”

He turns abruptly and walks away, leaving Blaine there alone, watching after him.

: : :

Blaine spends Friday night nursing a lukewarm beer as he watches the girls from the sorority next door totally school the guys in a heated match of Flip Cup.

His phone buzzes around ten and he blinks when he sees a text message from Kurt. _heyyy blaaaine,_ it says.

Blaine takes a deep breath and considers his options. It’s obvious Kurt’s drunk. Talking to him now is a shitty thing to do because he’s basically taking advantage of the situation and giving Kurt a chance to say all kinds of things that he’ll regret in the morning.

On the other hand, though, he really just wants to talk to Kurt.

_Hey_ , he types back.  _Seems like you’re having a good night._

_hope i’m not intettupting anything.friday nights is probably prime time to seduce the naïve underrgrads._

Blaine sighs and decides to deflect. _No, just trying to drink the same beer I’ve been holding for the past two hours._

He waits patiently for a return message but instead, his phone lights up with Kurt’s name. He hesitates because letting Kurt drunk dial him is way worse than letting Kurt drunk text him. He decides against being a decent human being, though, and answers the call because he really just wants to hear Kurt’s voice.

“Hi,” Blaine says. He’s already making his way out of the living room and up the stairs to his empty room.

“Hey,” Kurt says back, very clearly drunk. There’s a lot of noise in the background and Blaine assumes he’s at a bar.

“So you _are_ having a good night,” Blaine teases.

“I am,” he agrees. “People are buying me drinks. All kinds of people.”

Blaine’s smile falters because he can imagine what kinds of people are buying him drinks at a bar. He’s betting they all happen to be male and gay.

“I’m not even supposed to be calling you,” Kurt says. The background noise dims like maybe he went outside. “If they find out, they’ll take away my phone.”

“Kurt,” Blaine sighs sadly. “I must seem like such an ass. Trust me, if your brother wasn’t in my fraternity, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. I’d be at the bar with you. Buying you all kinds of drinks.”

Kurt’s quiet. “Is that supposed to make me feel _better_?”

“No, I just mean —”

“What if we were something special, Blaine? What if this was the real deal? What if I was your be-all-end-all? You’re okay giving that up for some dumb fraternity?”

“It’s not dumb,” Blaine says defensively. “I get that you don’t approve, that you have this awful opinion of anybody in a fraternity but it’s not like that. They’re good guys, okay? They’re good _friends_ , even.”

Kurt huffs out a laugh. “Such good friends that they tell you who you can and can’t date.”

“Kurt,” Blaine sighs again. He stops when he hears a sniffle on the other end. If Kurt’s actually crying, Blaine will probably never forgive himself.

“See, I told you,” Kurt says finally, voice shaky. “It all ends with me crying over a stupid boy.”

Blaine feels his eyes sting but before he can say anything, there’s muffled noise on the other end.

“Blaine?” Mercedes is saying. “Kurt, _tell_ me Blaine’s not on the other end of this call right now.”

“Hi, Mercedes,” Blaine says quietly. “Tell him — I don’t know. Tell him —”

“I’m not telling him a damn thing,” she says. “You think I care what you want? This isn’t _about_ you, Blaine. I’m not here to listen to what you want.”

“I know,” he swallows. “I just thought—”

“You _didn’t_ think,” she interrupts. “Look, I don’t think you’re some evil mastermind here, okay? But you need to get your shit together and _fast_.”

The line goes dead before he can agree.

He lies down and stares at his ceiling and wonders how his life got so jacked up.

: : :

Blaine tentatively takes a seat across from Kurt the next time he sees him in the library.

Kurt glances up from his textbook and only seems a little surprised to find himself face to face with Blaine. He’s quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry about Friday. I never should have called.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Blaine says with a shrug.

“And you never should have answered,” Kurt says, arching his eyebrow. “You knew I was drunk.”

He sighs. “I know. I just — I wanted to hear your voice. I miss hearing it. I miss … you.”

Kurt stiffens and sits up straighter in his chair. “Blaine, I’m not doing this here. Or anywhere.”

“I know,” Blaine says, feeling terrible. He knows he shouldn’t be saying the things that he is. It’s a surefire way to get his ass kicked by Finn.

“ _You_ ended this,” Kurt reminds him, voice hushed. “You don’t get to say things like that.”

“I know,” he says miserably. “But this isn’t fun for me either, okay? I hate it.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and starts gathering his things together. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at here but I’m not falling for it again. Find a new target.”

Blaine slumps in his chair as Kurt grabs his things and leaves.

: : : : :

_ Rule #10 : Thou shall always plan ahead if thou needs a sober ride. If thou asks two minutes before, thou shall plan on purchasing thine driver seasonal chocolates as payback. _

After another terrible week, Blaine feels worn down and exhausted and so for the very first time, when Puck suggests ‘getting shitfaced’, Blaine says, “Yeah, okay.”

They all end up at some party way off campus, some guy that Puck knows, which should have been Blaine’s first indication of how horrible the whole night would turn out to be.

He spends the first few hours drinking some spiked punch thing instead of watered down beer which just makes him drunker faster. After he loses count of how many cups he’s had, he hands his phone over to Mike and tells him that under no circumstance should he give it back to Blaine until he’s sobered up the next morning. Mike doesn’t ask questions.

Then he spends an hour trying to avoid two drunk girls that keep following him around and flirting incessantly.

He keeps his distance from Finn because the drunker he gets, the more likely he is to slip up and accidentally blurt out how hot he thinks Finn’s brother is, how he’d rather be watching a movie with Kurt than here at this terrible house that smells like stale beer and cigarettes.

Then after that, he heads outside and walks to the back of the yard where he sits by himself in the dark and tries to ignore how cold he is.

And then it starts raining.

And then Finn somehow finds him but Blaine’s beyond drunk at that point so he has no idea how late it is or how long Finn’s been sitting next to him. He has no idea what they talk about but Finn’s not kicking his ass so Blaine’s pretty sure he hasn’t brought up how badly he wants to date Finn’s brother.

And _then_ , to top it all off, Finn gets a text that tells him they’ve been left behind. They’re stranded at this awful house with the awful music while sitting in awful puddles of mud.

“What a dick,” Finn says aloud as he types a text on his phone. “They said they bailed because they thought we left and couldn’t get a hold of us.”

Blaine stares at him and doesn’t say anything.

“My phone was on silent and they said you weren’t answering yours at all.”

Blaine shrugs. “Mike has my phone.”

Finn eyes him. “Why?”

“To avoid the possibility of any drunk dials.”

Finn’s quiet for a few minutes. “This guy really screwed you up.”

Blaine shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. It’s cold and rainy and he’s miserable. “No,” he argues. “I screwed this up all by myself.”

Finn’s quiet again and Blaine’s thankful that he’s not pressing the issue. He wants to lie down but everything's spinning enough as it is and if he lies down, he knows the dizziness will just get worse. “What the hell was even in that fruit punch stuff?” he asks.

“Like, everything,” Finn answers. “Practically an entire liquor store.”

Blaine’s stomach feels queasy as he contemplates just how many different types of alcohol are coursing through his blood stream.

After a few minutes, Finn sighs and says, “Okay so I know how we can get home but he’s going to be pissed about it. Be ready.”

“Okay,” Blaine says, barely listening.

“Do you have any money?” Finn asks.

Blaine tries to remember the contents of his wallet but remembering anything right now is nearly impossible. “I think,” he says. “Maybe five dollars.”

Finn nods. “I’ve got a few bucks, too. That should cover it.”

Suddenly, Blaine’s being tugged up and Finn’s directing him back towards the house. “We have to get this mud off of us, no way he’ll let us in the car if we look like this. Which is dumb because it’s _my_ car.”

Blaine finally gets with the conversation. “Wait, what?”

Finn’s typing on his phone and ignores him.

“What are you doing, Finn?” Blaine asks, kind of starting to panic.

“Calm down,” he says. “I’m just seeing if Kurt will come pick us up. He’ll bitch about it but we’re gonna buy him some of those gross Cadbury Eggs so that he’ll do it anyway.”

“No no,” Blaine says, reaching for Finn’s phone. “Don’t do that.”

Finn eyes him. “It’s only five bucks, Blaine. I’ll pay you back.”

“No,” Blaine continues, eyes wide. “We can walk. I’ll walk. Just don’t call your brother.”

Finn starts to look a little annoyed. “Dude, we’re like twenty minutes away _by car_. We won’t get home until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Please,” Blaine pleads. “Let’s call someone else.”

And now Finn is full-fledged annoyed. “Everyone we know is hammered and on their way back to the frat house, Blaine.”

Blaine shakes his head miserably. This can’t be happening.

“What’s your deal?” Finn asks. “Do you have something against my brother?”

Blaine shakes his head again and just barely stops himself from saying no, he doesn’t have something against his brother, just a thing _for_ his brother.

“Then stop being weird about it. I know he seems all superior but he’s not. He just pretends sometimes.”

Blaine feels his eyes start to sting. It’s getting harder and harder not to slip up and telling Finn that he’s totally head over heels for his brother while they’re both completely drunk is pretty much the worst possible scenario.

They wait in the house for another half hour, both steering clear of more alcohol and of the drunk girls dancing on the table, the ones trying to take body shots off of anyone who’s willing.

Eventually, Finn tugs him up off the couch and tells him that they can finally leave. So they head outside and —

There is Kurt. Sitting in the driver seat of Finn’s crappy, battered Neon in the middle of the driveway. Blaine gets in the back seat and doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Hi,” he says quietly as they wait for Finn to walk around the car and climb in the passenger seat.

“Hello,” Kurt says stiffly.

The car ride is quiet for a few minutes as Kurt makes his way back towards one of the main roads.

“Thanks for doing this,” Finn tells him. “I owe you.”

“You do,” Kurt agrees. “When we go home for Christmas break, I’m lording this over you for the entire two weeks.”

Finn shrugs and doesn’t seem too concerned. “Hope you weren’t really busy,” he says.

“I wasn’t,” Kurt says back after a few moments. “Just studying in the library.”

“On a Friday?” Finn asks, skeptical. “Dude, come on. That’s sad.”

“With that beanie guy?” Blaine asks at the same time. “That guy at the book returns desk?”

Kurt gives him a quizzical look through the rear view mirror. “Chandler? Why would I be studying with him?”

Blaine doesn’t answer. He settles back into his seat and looks away.

“Ignore him,” Finn tells Kurt. “He’s been like this for a few weeks.”

Kurt’s quiet for a few minutes. “Like what?”

“All weird and moody. Something happened with him and some guy.”

“Finn,” Blaine grits out, eyes narrowed. “Stop talking.”

“He won’t talk about it,” Finn continues, ignoring him. “But he’s messed up. Some guy did a number on him—”

“Seriously, Finn,” Blaine interrupts. “Why are we discussing this right now?”

“What?” Finn asks, shrugging. “Kurt doesn’t care. Right?”

“Right,” Kurt agrees, giving Blaine an unreadable expression through the mirror again. “I most certainly do _not_ care.”

Blaine flinches at the tone.

After a few more minutes of silence, Finn gestures to a gas station on the left. “Hey wait, stop here. I need to pee.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Seriously? We’re like, five minutes from your house.”

“I need to pee now, though,” Finn says. “Right now. It can’t wait at all.”

Kurt grimaces. “If you pee in this car, I swear to god.”

Finn’s convincing enough because Kurt pulls in and parks the car. Finn runs inside and suddenly, it’s the two of them alone. Blaine stares at his hands and wonders if he smells like cheap cologne and menthol cigarettes. Or mud.

Blaine clears his throat. “This is basically the worst possible thing that could have happened.”

Kurt turns in his seat to level a stare at him. “Good to know. Thanks.”

“No,” he rushes to say. “I just mean that I gave Mike my phone so that I wouldn’t call you tonight. I didn’t want to get loaded and then drunk dial you. I was trying to be responsible but instead, I have to actually see you face to face, which is so much worse.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “You say such sweet things.”

Blaine gives him a dejected look. “Can you just not hate me for one night?”

Kurt sighs. “I don’t hate you, Blaine. I blame myself more than you, actually.”

“You what?” Blaine asks, confused.

“I blame myself. I knew you were in a fraternity. I knew what I was getting into when I started dating a frat guy. But I fell for you anyway.”

Blaine’s stomach flutters. “You fell for me?”

Kurt swallows and turns back around, staring out the front window. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Blaine argues.

“Why?” Kurt replies, suddenly angry. “I get that this is all some game to you and your friends. How does the scoring work? Five points if they sleep with you, ten if they fall for you?”

His eyes sting again. “I wish you knew how I felt about you.”

Kurt scoffs. “Like that would make it any better.”

Blaine opens his mouth to reply, even though he has no idea what he’s going to say in response, when Finn climbs back in the car.

“I didn’t have to pee,” he says, smiling. “I just wanted to buy these for you as a thanks for driving us back.” He hands over like, ten Cadbury Eggs.

Kurt eyes them then slowly smiles. “It’s not Easter for another five months. How did you find these?”

He shrugs. “They sell them all year round here for some reason. I found that out a few weeks ago.”

“Thanks,” Kurt says quietly. “That’s … nice of you.”

The rest of the drive back is quiet and after he drops them off at the house, Blaine lingers in the back seat for a moment instead of following Finn inside.

“I fell for you, too,” Blaine says softly. “In case you were wondering.”

Kurt swallows and watches Blaine through the mirror. After a few long moments he says, “I wasn’t.”

Blaine nods sadly.

“And it’s not like I believe you either,” he adds.

“I know,” Blaine says quietly.

“You’re ranking me below some stupid _bro code_. You couldn’t possibly care about me all that much.”

Blaine swallows thickly.

“I think you should go,” Kurt tells him. His voice sounds shaky.

Blaine nods again and climbs out of the car.

As he lies in bed, staring at his ceiling and sobering up, Kurt’s words replay over and over in his head. He’s right, he’s choosing a stupid rule over Kurt. It doesn’t make any sense. Giving up something — _someone_ — that makes him happy, makes him smile and laugh, gets him excited to wake up in the morning, it doesn’t make any sense. Ten years from now, he won’t look back and fondly remember this dumb bro code but he _will_ look back and regret throwing this away, this possibility of meeting the be-all-end-all love of his life.

He grins in the dark, the first real smile he’s had in a long time, and can’t wait to get up in the morning.

Tomorrow, he’s winning back Kurt Hummel.

: : : : :

_ Rule #11 : When explaining thine actions, make sure actual reasons are coming out of thine mouth, not excuses or thine own agenda. _

Kurt’s in one of the back study cubicles of the library when Blaine finally finds him. Exams are coming up so it’s pretty crowded and Blaine knows he needs to keep his voice down.

“Hey,” he says, voice hushed, as he kneels down next to Kurt’s chair.

Kurt glances over, startled, before looking down to meet Blaine’s eyes. It’s brief eye contact; he’s back to his textbook almost immediately.

“So I just wanted to give you a heads up,” Blaine starts. “Keep you in the loop.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “What do you need, Blaine?”

“I’m going to try and win you back,” he answers. “I just wanted to let you know.”

Kurt gives him a blank stare. “Excuse me?”

“You were right,” Blaine says by way of an answer. “This stupid code, who even cares. It’s not worth it.”

He lets out a quiet, skeptical laugh. “Seriously? What, is this for extra points or something? Get the poor sucker to give you a second chance, double or nothing?”

Blaine shake his head. “No game. There’s never been a game but I get that you don’t believe me.” He smiles and says, “Well, not yet, anyway.”

Kurt shakes his head and goes back to reading. “How desperate do you think I am that I’d fall for that again? Find someone new to toy with, Blaine.”

“I don’t think you’re desperate at all, act—”

“I have exams,” he tells him, impatient. “Go away.”

“Okay,” Blaine whispers as he stands. “Like I said, just keeping you in the loop.”

Kurt ignores him.

: : :

Blaine’s sitting in one of the coffee shops a few days later with a few notebooks and a calculator spread out before him when a small piece of paper is placed on the table and slid in front of him.

“What is this?” Kurt asks, annoyed.

“Hi,” Blaine says brightly, looking up to meet his eyes.

“What is this?” he repeats.

“Looks like one of those notes that comes with those exam care packages people send.”

“Yes, _thank you_ ,” Kurt sarcastically replies. “Why did you send me one?”

“What?” Blaine asks innocently, eyes wide. “There’s no signature there. What makes you think it was me?”

Kurt narrows his eyes as he recites the text on the card. “’ _Happy studying. I have a 3.7 GPA if you need any help. Just saying.’”_

Blaine shrugs. “That could be anyone.”

But he still looks unamused. “No, Blaine. Who else would send me an exam care package?”

His smile brightens. “Really, no one else?” he asks. “I won’t lie; that’s a relief. I didn’t know how many guys would be vying for your attention this time around.”

“There are guys,” Kurt tells him. “There are other people that give me attention.”

“Oh, I believe that, trust me,” Blaine says. “But they’re probably not as creative, right? Buying you dinner or taking you to a movie, I’m guessing. I was hoping this exam thing would give me an edge.”

Kurt watches him for a moment. “None of them broke up with me over a ridiculous bro code,” he says finally. “I think that means _everyone_ has an edge over you.”

He walks away and Blaine frowns after him. That went a little worse than he thought it would.

: : :

“Stop this,” Kurt grits out two days later as he places a basket on Blaine’s table in the library. Wes is a few chairs away but doesn’t look up.

Blaine stares up at him. “You don’t like it?” He looks at the basket that holds a few dozen Cadbury Eggs and a bag of microwavable popcorn.

“No, I don’t like it,” Kurt says. “You actually think I’d eat this much chocolate?”

He shrugs. “You could always, you know, share it? Movie night, popcorn, chocolate, that whole deal. Invite someone over.”

Kurt gives him a blank stare and ignores him, holding a few DVDs up. “And these?”

Blaine smiles. “Scary movies —”

“I hate scary movies,” Kurt interjects. “You know that.”

“Like I said, invite someone over.”

Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Why, so you can hold my hand and be my knight in shining armor?”

Blaine’s smile grows. “Your idea, not mine.”

Kurt shakes his head and walks away, leaving both the movies and the basket behind him.

That went basically about as well as Blaine thought it would.

: : :

He’s back at the coffee shop when a gift box is placed carefully in front of him.

“Seriously, Blaine?”

He pushes his work aside and peers into the box to see the pale blue scarf he bought online. “Did you like it?”

“Now you’re just buying me things? Throwing expensive clothes my way?”

He shrugs. “No, I just happened to see it and thought of you.” Which is the truth if _happened to see it_ actually means _hunted online for four hours to find one I thought you’d like_.

“I’m not keeping this, Blaine. I can’t accept it.”

“Why?” he asks.

“How can you afford something like this? Or do Mommy and Daddy buy you whatever you want?”

He rolls his eyes because Kurt knows his parents aren’t rich and that Blaine isn’t spoiled but apparently he’s back to thinking that Blaine’s an entitled rich douchey fratboy. “No, of course not. I just saw it and really wanted you to have it.”

“Well, I’m not accepting it,” Kurt says, crossing his arms in front of him.

Blaine cocks his head. “If you think about it, though, accepting it is actually what you _should_ do.”

Kurt gives him a dubious look.

“It was pretty expensive so if you give it back, I can return it, no harm done. If you keep it, though, I’ll be out a decent amount of money and you’ll have a new scarf. If you’re mad at me then accepting it is totally the best way to go.”

Kurt hesitates and considers Blaine’s logic. “I guess. That sort of makes sense.”

Blaine smiles up at him.

Within a few moments, Kurt is gone, gift box and scarf in tow.

Definitely went better than he thought.

: : :

He finds out Kurt is sick through Finn after Finn gets sick and spreads it to the whole house.

Blaine spends the next few hours trying to bake cookies. It does not go well.

Then he bribes Mike into letting him borrow his car so he can drive forty-five minutes to the book store in the city so that he can buy a few magazines.

_Then_ he finds Tina and convinces her to to bring the whole package to Kurt.

After an hour, he receives a text.  _What did you do to these cookies?_

Blaine frowns and sends back:  _I think our oven is broken._

_Oh sure,_ Kurt sends.  _I’m sure it has nothing to do with the chef._ And then:  _They taste like bacon. Why is it that they taste like bacon?_

Blaine grins and stares at his phone for a few moments. Before he can think of a response, Kurt texts again.

_Italian Vogue, though. That must have been hard to find._

Blaine smiles. _Not as hard as baking those cookies. Those I had some trouble with._

 _You don’t say,_ Kurt says. _I hadn’t noticed_.

He doesn’t text Blaine any more after that and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s on some cold medicine that knocks him out or if it’s because he’s back to ignoring Blaine. Regardless, it went _way_ better then Blaine thought it would.

: : :

He texts Kurt a few more times, calls occasionally, but Kurt never answers. Finally, though, Blaine spots Brett a few days later in the cafeteria and he realizes that it’s his opportunity. A chance to catch Kurt alone in his dorm, face-to-face, no coffee shop patrons around, no students at the library hearing every word.

When he gets there and knocks, it’s silent for a few moments. “Did you forget your key _again_? How is that even possible?” Kurt says from the other side of the door. When he opens it, he’s visibly surprised to see Blaine. “What are — why are you here?”

Blaine takes a deep breath and watches Kurt carefully. “So I want to tell them. Everyone at the fraternity. But I wanted to make sure that you were okay with it first.”

Kurt’s eyebrows raise. “Tell them what, exactly?”

“About you,” Blaine answers. “And how I feel about you. That you’re the reason my mood has been like a yo-yo these past few months.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything.

“And I just — I wanted to make sure you’re fine with that. Since he’s your brother and all.”

“I talked to him,” Kurt says suddenly.

Blaine’s mouth falls open slightly. “About us?”

“No,” he says, eyes trained on Blaine’s. “I asked him if he’d ever date Mike’s sister.”

His forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Mike doesn’t have a sister.”

“He didn’t seem to know that,” Kurt says, shrugging. “Because he said no, he wouldn’t ever do that. He said it went against some ridiculous bro code.”

Blaine sighs. “It’s not ridiculous.”

“That’s what he said. He said that it’s basically a code of honor. That it’s something he takes seriously.”

Blaine grimaces. “Is there a point to this? Trust me, I know how Finn feels about the bro code. It’s basically all I’ve thought about this past month.”

“Yes, there’s a point,” Kurt starts before taking a deep breath, eyes never leaving Blaine’s, “and the point is that I believe you. I think this is all about some dumb bro code and not some insulting fraternity game where you toy with people’s emotions.”

“You … believe me,” Blaine repeats, blinking.

“I do,” Kurt answers, voice quiet. “Please don’t make me regret that.”

Blaine’s mouth falls open. “Are you — wait, what does that mean? Are you going to date me again?”

“Is that what you want?” Kurt asks, face carefully neutral.

His eyes widen. Instead of answering, he takes a step into Kurt’s personal space and leans in closer, tilting his head up slightly — and then they’re kissing. It’s not like it normally is, all crazy intense in the back of a library or impatient and heated on Kurt’s bed while Brett’s out somewhere getting high in the back of a van.

Instead, it’s soft and deliberate and only lasts a few moments.

“Welcome back,” Kurt says, leaning his forehead against Blaine’s.

: : :

“I need two weeks or so, is that okay?” Blaine asks as they lie side-by-side on Kurt’s bed, staring up at the ceiling and holding hands.

“Okay,” Kurt tells him, not questioning.

“I need to make sure there’s housing available on campus somewhere.”

Kurt shifts onto his side and stares down at Blaine. “You really think they’d kick you out of the house for this?”

“No,” Blaine admits. “But if they’re all mad at me and treat me like some kind of traitor then it’ll be a really awkward place to live for an entire semester.”

Kurt’s quiet as he thinks. “We don’t have to tell people, Blaine. We can just keep it private for awhile.”

Blaine smiles at him. “I know. And if you can give me two weeks …”

He shrugs. “That’s fine. But if you need longer —”

“Thank you,” Blaine says as he shifts on his side, face only a few inches from Kurt’s. “But I can’t do it much longer than we’ve been doing it already. I was so over-the-top crazy happy when we were together and then I was kind of a mess when we weren’t and I’m so _obvious_ about it and they all know it’s about some guy and they’re always asking questions and I just — I can’t really do it much longer.”

“Okay,” Kurt says softly. He returns Blaine’s soft smile. “We’ll be okay.”

He nods. “We’ll be okay,” he agrees.

Two weeks. They’ll be okay.

: : : : :

_ Rule # 24 : Never start real talk or an argument while blasted. Know what’s not fun? Piecing together what was said the next morning. _

The whole thing starts because of Kurt’s damn T.A.

They’re studying in Kurt’s room while Brett’s out doing god-knows-what with god-knows-who and it’s just starting to get dark outside when Kurt says, “I have a meeting with Adam tomorrow after class so we’ll have to push our super surreptitious lunch date back an hour.”

Blaine grins. “I don’t think it counts as _surreptitious_ if it’s in broad daylight, Kurt. You make it sound illegal.”

Kurt looks up from where’s he lying on his bed in front of a book and raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe say _secret,_ ” Blaine suggests.

“That’s boring,” Kurt says.

“Covert,” Blaine tries.

Kurt hums. “Very Special Ops, Blaine. No.”

Blaine thinks. “Clandestine.”

“Too romantic.”

He gets up from his spot on the floor and nudges Kurt over so he can sit next to him. “What’s wrong with romantic?” he asks with a teasing smile.

Kurt eyes him. “We’re going to a Denny’s, Blaine. If I can’t call it surreptitious then you can’t call it clandestine.”

His smile falters. “I’m sorry about this. I can tell you hate sneaking around and hiding out in your room and going to dumb places off campus.”

He sighs and rolls onto his side, looks up at Blaine. “It’s been four days. I’m fine. Stop beating yourself up over it.”

Blaine looks at his hands and can’t help but feel guilty.

“Tell you what,” Kurt says quietly. “Take me to an Olive Garden and I’ll let you call it clandestine.”

Blaine gives him a small laugh. “Okay.”

“But like I said, we have to push it back an hour. It’s the only time Adam has free.”

He nods and takes his seat on the floor again. “Which one is he again?” He’s pretty good at remembering names from Kurt’s stories. Drew is the one that collects dead animals and hangs them on his wall, Alex is the guy that actually pays money for a monthly perm, Mark is the one that draws penises on everything. Adam, though, he can’t remember that one.

“My T.A.,” Kurt tells him. “The British one. You’ve met him.”

Blaine tenses but Kurt doesn’t notice. “With the beanie.”

“With the beanie,” Kurt confirms. “We’re going over that paper. The one you looked over.”

“Right,” Blaine says slowly. “How come he needs to look over it, too?”

Kurt glances up and gives him a quizzical look. “Maybe because he’s the one eventually grading it?”

“Right,” Blaine says again.

He can’t think of anything else to say so he lets it go.

: : :

“We’re having a party on Friday,” he tells Kurt over their Olive Garden breadsticks.

Kurt meets his eyes and looks unimpressed. “You’re always having parties on Fridays.”

He shrugs. “I know. But you haven’t been to one yet. I want you to come.”

Kurt gives him an incredulous laugh. “How are we supposed to hide this — _us_ — from your fraternity brothers if we hang out in right front of your fraternity brothers? I’m missing the logic.”

“ _I’m_ not bringing you,” Blaine scoffs like maybe it’s the dumbest question ever. “Your brother will invite you and you’ll show up and we’ll just happen to talk to each other. A lot.”

Kurt stares at him and sort of considers the whole suggestion and Blaine can actually see his resolve weaken. “Okay,” he says. “Somehow get him to invite me and I’ll show up.”

Blaine beams at him. “This is going to be totally awesome.”

: : :

Blaine’s sitting next to Finn while the whole house watches football and he casually says, “Man, I wish Cooper could come to one of our parties. I never get to see him and it’d be such a great opportunity for my brother to meet all of you. You guys are such a big part of my life and I wish he could get to see that. See everyone and where I live and what we’re all like.”

Finn looks over at him. “Dude, that’s a sweet idea. I never see Kurt. Maybe he’d like you all more if he met you. Maybe he’d stop hating on fraternities.”

Blaine gives him a look and thinks, _Uh probably no._ But he says, “Cool idea, Finn.”

: : :

_He texted me. I’m in,_ Kurt sends him later.

Blaine grins at his phone and thinks about how he’s ninety-five percent pumped but five percent nervous that after he gets a couple of beers in him, he’ll grab Kurt by the hand right in front of everyone and drag him up to his room and lock themselves in and try to make out with him until Finn breaks the door down to kick his ass.

: : :

Friday night comes and it’s almost nine o’clock and Kurt still hasn’t shown up. Finn’s been hitting on some girl in a miniskirt for like an hour so Blaine sort of feels bad interrupting all of Finn’s hard work but not bad enough to _not_ interrupt. “So, uh,” he starts, trying to come off as incredibly nonchalant as possible.

Finn gives him a surprised look because Blaine has never intentionally cockblocked anyone in his life.

“Didn’t you say that your brother — is he —” Blaine starts, stopping himself once he realizes how unsubtle he sounds.

“He’s supposed to be here later,” Finn says.

“Oh, okay,” Blaine says, still trying to sound casual. And failing.

“He has some study date with his T.A. or whatever,” Finn adds.

Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wait what?”

“His T.A.,” Finn repeats, losing interest. “He said they were meeting up and he couldn’t come until late.”

Finn turns back to the miniskirt girl and Blaine just stares at him, trying not to gape.

Kurt is on a  _date_ on a  _Friday_ with some guy in a beanie that’s totally  _into him_ .

He sort of can’t stop gaping. He wonders if Kurt is going to even show up at all. Maybe he’ll stay on his date all night. Maybe he’ll go home with the damn T.A.

So Blaine gets wasted.

: : :

He’s trying to beat a couple of girls at Beer Pong when Kurt finally shows up. Sam’s his partner and even drunker than Blaine is so the game is not exactly in their favor.

Kurt catches his eye from across the room as soon as he walks through the door. He subtly makes sure no one is watching him before giving Blaine a flirty grin.

Blaine stares at him but can’t force himself to smile back.

Kurt looks confused for a minute but then Finn meets him by the door and starts talking to him and their eye contact is broken.

Ten minutes later, someone’s turned on the music and dimmed the lights and everyone’s totally drunk and dancing to some dumb pop song that Blaine would probably appreciate a lot more if the guy he’s dating wasn’t just totally on a date with another guy. He stands by a doorway and looks for Kurt as he drinks another beer.

Suddenly there’s a voice next to him. “Why hello,” Kurt says. “My name’s Kurt, Finn’s brother. And you are?”

Blaine looks over to see Kurt giving him a coy smile and  _god_ is he hot but Blaine’s drunk and not thinking logically. “Finn’s fraternity brother,” Blaine answers, trying not to sound upset and angry and yeah, maybe jealous. “He’s told me  _so_ much about you, Kurt, and how you were just totally on a date with some guy.”

Kurt blanches and looks confused. “I was?”

“Yeah, apparently,” Blaine says. “But hey, why should I care? It’s not like we know each other. It’s not like _we’re dating_.”

Kurt blinks, still looking totally confused. “I don’t understand. What did he say?”

Then all of a sudden they’re surrounded by practically all of his friends.

“This is Kurt!” Finn tells everyone, almost yelling so that everyone can hear him over the ever-increasing volume of the music. “This is his first frat party guys!”

“I remember you!” Sam shouts. “You hang out with Mercedes, right?”

Kurt smiles at him and nods, not even trying to communicate over the loud music.

“Yeah!” Artie yells. “And that Sugar Motta girl?”

He nods again.

“What the hell?” Puck asks. “Your brother hangs out with a bunch of hot girls and he’s holding out on us? That’s shitty.”

Finn eyes him. “Don’t be a dick. I’ll see if I can get him to bring some next time!”

Blaine can barely hear anything above the music.

After the next song, the music dies down a bit.

“Here’s the deal,” Finn tells everyone. “I’ll get him to invite one hot girl for every gay dude you bring to the next party.”

Everyone stares at him, silent.

“Look, he hangs out at the library on Friday nights, guys. He needs a boyfriend, okay?”

“Actually, I don’t,” Kurt interjects. “And maybe you could _ask_ me these things before volunteering me?”

Finn whips around and looks at him. “Dude, you are not wasting the best years of your life in a library. You  _do_ need a boyfriend and if you won’t do it for yourself then I’ll get my whole fraternity involved,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at Kurt.

He narrows his eyes back at Finn. “Oh my god, you so do not have a say in my dating life, Finn.”

Before they can argue anymore, everyone starts adding to the conversation.

“There’s a guy I know making a butterfly documentary. He might be gay. I’ll see what I can do,”  
Artie says to the whole group.

“And I think like, ninety percent of the guys at my gym are gay, so,” Sam tells everyone. “That’s like, at least ten guys right there.”

Kurt gives Blaine a helpless look but he barely notices. Everyone in his fraternity, all of his so-called friends, are throwing gay guys in Kurt’s direction and trying to hook him up with anyone  _ever_ . He looks around and listens to their suggestions and thinks,  _This is my nightmare._

“Okay, stop!” Kurt tells everyone right as the music picks back up. “No one is setting me up with anyone, okay?”

They all shrug and mostly everyone walks away but Finn stares at him, still glaring and not noticing Blaine watching the two of them, his back against the wall.

“You always do this,” Finn says loudly. “You push everyone away.”

“I’m not,” Kurt says, frustrated. “It’s just that — there’s a guy, okay?”

He pauses. “Wait, seriously?”

Kurt lets out an exasperated sigh. “Yes. Will you drop it now?”

Finn grins. “Yeah, I’ll drop it.”

Then he leaves, too, and it’s just the two of them.

“Wow,” Kurt laughs. “That was crazy.”

“Yeah, totally,” Blaine says, rolling his eyes. “You should have just told them you were on a date with your T.A. and they would have left you alone.”

Kurt turns to him and is just as confused as he was before the interruption. “What does that mean? I’m not understanding you right now.”

Blaine gives him an irritated sigh then pushes himself away from the wall to grab himself another beer from the kitchen. Kurt follows him.

“What’s your deal?” Kurt asks. “You want me to come to your party so I do and then you’re a total jerk the whole time?”

Blaine opens the beer then takes a long drink before turning to face him. “You certainly are convincing, you know that?” He stares at Kurt while everyone else leaves the kitchen until they’re alone.

Kurt takes a step back. “You’re drunk.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees. “It seems like the only time that happens is when I’m all messed up over _you_.”

“Me?” Kurt asks. “What did I do?”

Blaine’s eyes widen and he lets out a skeptical laugh. “You were on a _date_ , or so Finn tells me.”

Kurt watches him and doesn’t say anything. He looks equal parts angry and hurt.

“There’s a difference, Kurt. There’s a difference between acting like you and I aren’t together front of Finn and actively trying to _prove_ that we’re not together in front of Finn.”

Kurt is still silent.

“But you don’t have to prove anything,” Blaine says quietly as he takes a step closer. “You don’t have to prove to him that we’re not together by going out on dates.”

Kurt gives him a blank stare. “You think I was on a date.”

“Weren’t you? With your T.A. and his oh-so-charming British accent?” he asks. God, does he want Kurt to tell him he’s wrong.

“So, what? We’re seeing other people? Is that what you’re saying?” he counters, not answering the question.

Blaine shakes his head miserably. “I don’t want to see other people. I definitely don’t want _you_ seeing other people.”

“I wasn’t on a date, okay?” Kurt tells him. “I was in a meeting with my adviser and the T.A. from my English Comp class who, by the way, is like fifty years old.”

Blaine freezes. “Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh,”_ Kurt says. He’s now more insulted than hurt. “You’re drunk. Call me tomorrow when we can have a rational sober conversation.”

Then he’s gone. Blaine stares after him for a few minutes until Finn comes in to grab another beer.

“Wait was that Kurt?” he asks. “Were you two fighting?”

“No,” Blaine says immediately. “Why would we be fighting? I don’t even know him.”

Finn side-eyes him and slowly says, “Okay.”

Blaine spends the rest of the evening sulking. His friends give him weird looks but don’t call him out on it.

: : :

The first thing he does the next morning is call Kurt. “Hey,” he says as soon as Kurt answers. “Before you say anything, I’m sorry, okay?”

Kurt’s silent for a long moment. “Meet me at the coffee shop in an hour and we’ll go off campus. We’ll talk.”

Blaine’s stomach feels unsettled and only partially because he’s hungover. He’s waiting outside by the time Kurt shows up, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Kurt pauses as he reaches Blaine and they stand outside for a few moments.

“Here,” Blaine says quietly, holding out the flowers.

Kurt watches him carefully before reaching out to accept them.

“White and red roses,” Blaine tells him. “I researched it online. Red means loyalty and white roses are for new beginnings.”

“You … researched roses online,” Kurt repeats.

Blaine nods and doesn’t take his eyes off Kurt. “And a mixed bouquet is supposed to be the universal apology gift.”

Kurt’s quiet.

“And I’m really, _really_ sorry,” he continues. “I shouldn’t have been like that especially after I practically begged you to come over.”

Kurt’s still silent but he doesn’t look mad or annoyed. He’s just waiting.

“ _Of course_ it’s not your fault that I was drunk and I just — I don’t know why I put that on you. Is there — how can I make it up to you?”

“That can’t happen again,” Kurt says finally.

“I know,” Blaine sighs. “I was just — I wasn’t thinking rationally. I hate hiding this, Kurt. I hate hiding us. Not that I’m trying to use that as as excuse, I promise. It’s just — I really hate this.”

“I know,” Kurt replies. “But if you feel the need to start fights, start them when you’re sober.”

He nods. “I know.”

They start walking away from campus.

“I’m not dating anyone else,” Kurt tells him a few minutes later. “I thought that was a given.”

“Me either,” Blaine replies. “And I thought so, too, but then Finn —”

“Stop,” Kurt says. “No more listening to Finn or believing Finn or worrying about what Finn’s thinking and feeling.”

Blaine nods again. “Okay.”

Kurt stops walking and faces him. “You’re dating _me_. Don’t worry about him. At least for the next week.”

Blaine stops and turns, too. “Okay,” he says quietly.

When they go to Denny’s later that afternoon, they play footsie under the table and smile and laugh and flirt while Blaine apologizes another few (dozen) times.

“Okay,” Kurt concedes, looking at the small bouquet of roses next to him. “Fine, Denny’s can be clandestine.”

Blaine grins. “Awesome. But only another week. After that, we don’t need to come here clandestinely.”

Kurt’s smile falls. “No, after that, we’re not coming here _at all_ , Blaine. It’s a Denny’s.”

Blaine keeps smiling. “Fine, okay.”

“One week,” Kurt says as he reaches over the table to grab Blaine’s hand.

Blaine nods. One week. He’s pretty much equal parts relieved and terrified.

One week.

: : : : :

_ Rule #18 : There’s a difference between telling one person and telling the one person who will tell everyone else. Careful who and why you tell. _

And then, of course, is the inevitable fallout.

Almost the entire fraternity plans on going to some cabin Artie’s dad owns that next weekend, someplace out in the woods for some big last hurrah before Christmas break.

When Mike tells him about it, Blaine hesitates. On one hand, he can spend one last weekend with these guys, friends he’s had for over a year now. It’ll be his last chance to be with them without everyone pissed that he’s breaking the bro code. His last chance before he loses their respect by disobeying their one cardinal rule.

On the other hand, though.

On the other hand it’s an entire weekend alone with Kurt. A weekend without looking over their shoulders or going to skeevy all-night diners just to see each other. And, most importantly, a weekend where they’re uninterrupted, no stoner roommates coming back from stoner activities just in time to break apart an incredibly heated (and mostly unclothed) makeout session on Kurt’s awful dorm bed.

It’ll be his last chance to hang out with his friends judgment free but it’s also his last chance to be with Kurt judgment free. The choice is pretty obvious.

Mike looks at him funny when he comes up with a flimsy excuse about make-up exams and tutoring some girl in his Musical Theory class. A couple of the other guys try to convince him throughout the week but Blaine’s resolve never weakens. By Wednesday, though, he realizes he’s never mentioned it to Kurt.

“So I was thinking,” Blaine starts after he calls Kurt to say goodnight. “Want to come over this weekend?”

Kurt’s quiet.

“Everyone’s going to Artie’s dad’s cabin for the entire weekend. We’d be all alone here. Well, mostly. Most of the freshman will be here and maybe some seniors. But nobody that matters will be around, nobody that knows who you are.”

“Okay,” Kurt says slowly.

“And we can stay in my room and watch movies and … I don’t know, maybe I can score a bottle of wine from one the seniors that always buys us alcohol.”

“Okay,” he says again although this time it sounds like he’s laughing.

“Yeah?” Blaine asks hopefully. “One last weekend together before I get like, shunned. And before your brother tries to convince you to not be with me —”

“He won’t try that,” Kurt interrupts. He’s not sure exactly how he knows but Blaine can instinctively tell that Kurt’s rolling his eyes.

“And one last low-key weekend, just you and me,” Blaine continues.

“And no Brett,” Kurt adds, voice coy.

“Oh, right,” Blaine says. “Didn’t even think of that.”

“Oh, right,” Kurt echoes, teasing. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

Blaine grins and doesn’t argue.

“We can get take-out,” Kurt suggests.

“I can make you breakfast,” Blaine adds.

Kurt is silent.

“Kurt?” he asks, checking that he’s still on the line.

More silence.

“Are you there?”

“Are you better at breakfasts than cookies?” Kurt finally says. “Because if not, I’ll pass on that.”

Blaine grins some more and gets settled under his covers. “Good, so you’ll pencil me in for this weekend?”

Kurt gives him a quiet laugh. “I think I can make some room,” he answers.

Blaine falls asleep giddy with anticipation and chooses not to focus on how, in less that a week, everything will change.

: : :

Blaine picks Sam because he feels like he’s the safest, the one least likely to freak out on him about dating a frat brother’s brother.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” he asks Friday afternoon, cornering Sam in his room as he finishes packing.

“Yeah, sure,” Sam says. “Sorry for the mess.”

Blaine takes a deep breath. “Look, I need to tell you something and I need for you to not freak out, okay?”

“Okay,” Sam says warily.

“Everyone’s going to be super angry so I need for you to not lose it until Sunday when I tell everyone else.”

Sam drops the sneakers he’s holding and says, “Dude, you’re freaking me out, just tell me.”

He takes another deep breath. “So I’m seeing someone.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, thanks. I’m not _that_ dumb, Blaine. Everyone knows that.”

“Right, I know,” Blaine says. “But it’s _who_ I’m seeing.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Is it a teacher, man?”

“What? No.”

“That cafeteria guy? Come on, you can do better.”

“No,” Blaine says. “Just listen for a minute—”

“Shit, it’s that Sebastian guy, right?”

Blaine wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Gross, no, why do you guys keep bringing him up—”

“Then _tell_ me, Blaine. Whoever it is can’t be worse than that dude.”

Blaine steels himself. “It’s — it’s Kurt — it’s, you know. Finn’s brother.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “You’re dating a frat brother’s brother and _hiding_ it? Blaine, you know that it’s like, totally against every rule, right?”

“I know,” Blaine says, wincing. “I know, okay? I know all of that. But I tried _not_ being with him and it didn’t work out so well and I just. I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know how to explain it.”

He eyes Blaine and doesn’t say anything for a minute. “I hope he’s worth it. You know Finn’s gonna—”

“I know,” he says. “Trust me, I’ve been over that for the past couple of months. I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.”

“Okay,” Sam says warily. “And why are you telling me?”

Blaine takes a seat in Sam’s desk chair and tries to will his heartbeat to slow down a little. If telling Sam is this nerve-wracking than he can’t imagine what it’ll be like to tell the whole house. To tell _Finn_. “Because he’s coming here this weekend. We’ve been hiding this for awhile and I just want to spend time with him in some place that isn’t Denny’s, some place where we can be alone without his roommate passed out on the bed next to us.”

“Okay,” Sam says again. He pauses. “Man, you’ve got it bad for this guy.”

“I do,” Blaine tells him, looking down at his hands. “I really do.”

He sighs. “And I come into this how?”

Blaine swallows. “Call me. If you guys come home early or there’s a change of plans or … anything, whatever. Call me or text me and just let me know. Give us some time to clear out.”

Sam thinks about it for a minute and looks conflicted.

“Look, I get that I’m putting you in an awkward spot. But I swear, I’ll never tell anyone that I told you first. No one will ever knew that you had any kind of involvement. You can act just as surprised and angry as they’ll all be.”

Sam still looks hesitant.

“And twenty bucks,” Blaine tries. But Sam doesn’t look convinced. “Thirty?”

He perks up. “Forty and you do my laundry next month.”

Blaine looks over at the corner to stare at Sam’s gross socks and undershirts. “Deal,” he says, grimacing.

: : :

Kurt doesn’t come over until late on Friday, not until way after all of Blaine’s friends clear out. He has his bookbag and an overnight bag that seems to be filled more with moisturizers and face wash and cleansers than actual clothes. They sorta kinda make out but it’s laid back and not at all rushed since they know they have all weekend. They fall asleep with legs tangled in Blaine’s twin mattress and he thinks about how it’s the most comfortable he’s ever felt in his own skin as he finally drifts off.

: : :

On Saturday morning when they wake up, the making out is definitely less laid back. It’s heated and intense and a little uncontrolled and Blaine has to really struggle to keep it all together. He promised Kurt he would take it slow and he’s not about to back out of that now.

Even though Kurt is basically naked.

And touching Blaine like, everywhere.

And flushed and breathing heavily, eyes dark.

And also basically naked.

And straddling Blaine, looking down at him with wild eyes.

And leaving marks on Blaine’s neck that will probably stick around for days.

And hello did he mention basically naked _._

They’re interrupted by a knock on the door and Blaine groans with frustration. It’s kind of a dick move to knock on a frat brother’s door on a Saturday morning because it’s sort of assumed that they still have a Friday night random hookup in their bed but really, he can’t blame whoever knocked because Blaine’s never actually had a Friday night random hookup. It ruins the mood as one of the freshman calls out something about Blaine’s clothes being done in the dryer and Kurt reluctantly climbs off of him, face flushed.

Blaine watches him with a smile, can’t force himself to look away.

“Breakfast?” he asks.

Kurt eyes him warily. “That depends.”

Blaine grins. “How about cereal? Even I can’t mess up cereal.”

He waits a few minutes so they can both like, _compose_ themselves then drags Kurt down the stairs into the kitchen. He pours two bowls and adds some milk and ignores the few weird looks they get. He sends Kurt back upstairs with a flirty smile and tells him he’ll be up in a moment. He stares after him and knows that he’s probably wearing some dumb moony expression but whatever, he doesn’t care. As he puts away the cereal and places the milk back in the fridge, one of the seniors nods in the direction of the doorway Kurt just left.

“How do you know him?”

“He’s a friend,” Blaine answers quickly. No way he’s telling him until all of his friends find out the truth.

He’s staring at the doorway still and Blaine realizes that he should probably shut that shit down ASAP.

“He has a boyfriend,” Blaine adds. “Big guy. Model with crazy biceps. Pretty intimidating.”

The senior frowns and looks away. “That’s cool.”

Blaine rolls his eyes and heads back up to his room. Kurt’s sitting on the floor, back against the bed, and Blaine takes a seat next to him.

“Was that — it seemed weird,” Kurt says. “They were looking at me weird.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees. “Probably.”

Kurt gives him a worried look.

“It’s just that Friday night randoms don’t usually stay the whole night. And when they do, they’re not usually invited to hang around for breakfast.”

“Oh,” Kurt says, blinking.

“And they probably gave you weird looks because —” Blaine cuts himself off, not sure how to continue. “Well — I’ve just never _had_ a Friday night random.”

Kurt smiles to himself and looks down at his cereal. “Oh,” he says again. “I though maybe they were freaked about you having a guy over. If it was something like that.”

“No,” Blaine scoffs. “I’m not the only gay guy in this fraternity.”

Kurt’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Actually, one of them was downstairs while we were getting breakfast. The tall blonde with the muscle shirt?”

Kurt thinks for a moment. “He’s gay?”

“Wrong answer,” Blaine says, rolling his eyes. “You’re supposed to say like, _No I don’t remember him at all, Blaine, I only have eyes for you._ ”

Kurt grins. “Okay, fine then. I don’t remember him at all.”

Blaine eats a few spoonfuls of cereal and ignores him. “He totally wanted to hit on you.”

Kurt’s mouth drops open slightly. “What?”

“Don’t worry,” Blaine says, nudging Kurt’s shoulder with his own. “I told him you had a boyfriend. A big muscular model-type.”

Kurt stills.

He gives him a worried look. “Wait, are you mad?”

Kurt doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. After a while, instead of answering, he whispers, “Do I?”

Blaine looks at him, confused. “Do you what?”

Kurt shifts so that he’s facing Blaine. “Do I have a boyfriend?”

Blaine stares at him, not sure how to respond. They’re not seeing other people, they’ve both agreed to that. And Kurt’s spending the weekend with him — the entire weekend — so it’s not like it’s something casual. And god, in less than forty eight hours, half his fraternity will be super pissed at him for this so yeah, this relationship is important and real and _means_ something.

“Do you want one?” Blaine finally answers, voice quiet. “If you do, I know a pretty good candidate. And I don’t mean Mr. Blond Chiseled Biceps from downstairs.”

Kurt gives him a slow smile. “Thanks but no thanks. The position’s not available. I already have a boyfriend, apparently. He’s in a _fraternity.”_

Blaine gives him a mock gasp. “A frat boy? Don’t you know what those guys are like, Kurt Hummel?”

Kurt keeps smiling. “Not him,” he says softly. “He’s different.”

“He’s different,” Blaine agrees, whispering. “I’m different.” They lean forward to kiss each other carefully, trying to keep the cereal bowls upright.

: : :

They spend most of the afternoon doing schoolwork. They figure that the earlier that they get it done, the more time they’ll have to spend pressure-free, no essays or assignments hanging over their heads. Blaine sits on his bed, back against the headboard, while Kurt sits with his back against the side wall, feet and legs tangled up with Blaine’s. They sit like that for a couple of hours while Blaine re-writes an essay and Kurt works on some kind of math sheet. When Blaine finally finished, he untangles himself to move next to Kurt and look over his shoulder. He’s sketching something, some kind of suit, and shading the pencil in with his fingers.

“That — holy crap, Kurt,” Blaine says, eyes wide. “That’s amazing. _You’re_ amazing.”

“Thank you,” he says with a pleased smile. “I told you I was thinking about a fashion major. Fashion marketing, textile design, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Yeah but I didn’t realize how _good_ you were. That design, that’s —”

Kurt looks a little self-conscious and says, “Thank you,” again. He leans over to give Blaine a kiss and it’s reciprocated until Blaine’s stomach lets out an obnoxious, mood-shattering growl.

“Guess you’re hungry,” Kurt say with a raised eyebrow, pulling away.

Blaine inwardly groans at the fact that he’s his very own cockblock. “How about grilled cheese for lunch?” he asks. “I should be okay with that. Assuming I have your supervision.”

Kurt’s smile falters a little. “You think we should just be hanging out together in your kitchen? I thought we were supposed to be lying low.”

“They’re probably all gone,” Blaine reassures as he stands up and holds a hand out to Kurt. “Anyone that knows you’re Finn’s brother is at that cabin and most everyone else has gone home for the weekend or found something better to do on a Saturday afternoon.”

Kurt accepts his hand and stands up to follow him. Blaine’s right; there’s no one downstairs at all and the kitchen is empty.

“Are you nervous?” Kurt asks him as he takes a few tentative bites of his grilled cheese.

Blaine takes a seat next to him on one of the stools of the high table that faces the oven. “A little,” he lies.

Kurt eyes him. “Blaine.”

He shrugs and looks down at his sandwich. “Yes,” he says finally. “I’m pretty much terrified.”

Kurt sighs. “I told you, we don’t have—”

“We do,” Blaine argues. “I can’t keep lying to them, Kurt. This isn’t some random fling or whatever. I _like_ you. You’re my boyfriend.” He smiles; it’s a good word to say, to hear, to use.

“Okay,” Kurt says quietly with a small smile.

They eat in silence for a few minutes.

“I’m losing a lot,” Blaine says finally. “I’ve known these guys since my very first week of school last year. It’s — I’m just not looking forward to all of that.”

Kurt watches him then carefully says, “Do you ever think that maybe it’s not as huge as you’re making it? Maybe it won’t be such a big deal.”

“No, it will,” Blaine says, shaking his head. “There was this senior last year — I don’t remember a lot about him because it was right after I joined but his best friend started dating his cousin and he freaked out. It was a huge deal. Their friendship was totally ruined and the whole house got involved and it was … it was _awful,_ Kurt. For the whole house and for them as friends and for his cousin’s relationship, everything was just awful. He — he tried to talk his cousin out of it, I remember that. I’d see her in the cafeteria and she always looked so upset.”

They’re both quiet for awhile. Kurt picks at the crust of his sandwich.

“He’ll do that, you know,” Blaine says quietly. “He’ll try to talk you out of this. Of us.”

“He won’t,” Kurt argues. “I think you’re overestimating his protective instincts.”

“He _will,”_ Blaine insists. “You’ve been brothers since what — thirteen or fourteen? You’d be surprised at just how protective he is.”

They’re quiet again. “Did it work?” Kurt asks softly. “Did he manage to break them up?

“Yeah,” Blaine says, not meeting Kurt’s eyes. “I think so. Apparently he kept reminding her that he knew what it was like to be in a fraternity. That he knew better than anyone what they were like, what his frat brothers were like, what they were capable of. I … I don’t think it ended well for anyone.”

Kurt sighs and pushes his plate to the side. “What would Finn tell me, Blaine? What could he possibly say to change how I feel about you or about us?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine says miserably. “He could tell you about how guys in fraternities are drunken assholes. We don’t commit. We’re cheaters. We only do one-night-stands.”

“You just told me you’ve never had a Friday one night stand, Blaine,” Kurt points out, eyebrow raised.

“I haven’t,” Blaine agrees. “I don’t.”

“And I can’t exactly see you cheating on me with some drunken sorority random,” he says with a smile, trying to keep things light. “I have a feeling sorority girls might not be your thing.”

“Straight frat guys don’t have a monopoly on drunken hook-ups, Kurt,” he says. “All of those drunk sorority girls bring their drunk gay best friend. Gay frat guys make just as many poor decisions as the straight ones.”

Kurt’s quiet for awhile. “Well, it won’t work,” he finally says. “He can say what he wants but it won’t work.”

They both eat a few bites of their grilled cheese in silence.

“So what’s the plan?” Kurt asks finally.

Blaine shrugs. “We usually do Taco Bell on Sunday nights. I figure that afterward, once they’re all playing video games in the living room … I’ll bring it up.” He pauses. “I mean, they all know there’s a guy. They just assume I’m hiding him because I’m embarrassed of all of them which, when we started seeing each other, was definitely the case.”

Kurt watches him, quiet.

“They know there’s a guy,” Blaine repeats. “They know there was one at the beginning of the semester and they know there _wasn’t_ one for awhile after that and now they know he’s back.” He pauses again. “I sort of wear my heart on my sleeve. I’ve never been very good at hiding it.”

Kurt gives him a lopsided smile and bumps their shoulders together. “So I’ve noticed.”

They watch each other for a few moments before Kurt grabs their paper plates and places them in the trash. He grabs Blaine’s hand in his own and tugs him upstairs.

Once inside Blaine’s room, they sit back on the bed and Kurt says, “So what will you say?”

“I don’t really know,” he answers. “I figure I should keep it simple. The fewer details they have to hear, the better. I’ll probably just apologize for breaking the code but say sometimes you just can’t help it. That _I_ couldn’t help it.”

Kurt grabs Blaine’s hand in his own again and holds it tightly but doesn’t say anything.

“Because look at you,” Blaine says quietly, leaning in. “Who could possibly help it when it came to you?”

Kurt leans in to meet him halfway and they share a brief kiss.

“I think all I really need to say is that I fell for a brother’s brother. There’s only one guy that has a gay brother — on campus for that matter — so they’ll know who I mean right away.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes before Kurt shifts and tugs at Blaine’s arm until he gets the hint. He wraps his arm around Kurt’s shoulder and pulls him in closer.

“Then what happens?” Kurt asks finally.

Blaine shrugs. “If they’re super angry, I have a bag of stuff that I can grab. One of my friends has an apartment off campus with his girlfriend. He said I could stay with them for a few days if I need to. And beyond that … I checked with campus housing and there’s a room available in one of those back buildings, the one with all the foreign exchange students.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything for a long while, just listens to Blaine’s steady breathing. “And then that’s it? A year and half with these guys and you’ll just grab your duffel bag and go?”

Blaine shrugs again and tries not to think about it.

“And they’ll just watch you leave? No one will stand up to give a heart-warming speech about brotherly solidarity, something about all for one and one for all?” His voice is light, obviously trying to get Blaine to smile. “Well, I have to say that every crass buddy flick I’ve ever seen is total propaganda then. They led me to believe that every frat house has a handful of really epic bromancesbut now you’re implying that’s not how it works.”

Blaine huffs out a laugh. “Kurt Hummel just said the word bromance.”

“I thought for sure someone would chase after you in the rain and beg you to stay,” Kurt continues.

Blaine gives him a crooked smile. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Kurt gives him a small, sad smile in return. “Really?” he asks. “You really think Finn would just watch you go?”

“Maybe,” Blaine answers, looking at his lap. “Unless he decides to throw punches.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “He won’t hit you. Plus, I’ve seen you against a punching bag. You can hold your own against him.”

Blaine laughs skeptically. “Are you crazy? I wouldn’t hit him back. He’s my boyfriend’s _brother_ , not exactly the way I want to start out. And he has a right to be mad. I’m the one breaking the code.”

Kurt nestles even closer and rests his head on Blaine’s shoulder, an arm draped over his stomach. “Do you want me to be there with you?” he asks quietly.

He sighs. “I haven’t decided. I don’t know if that’ll make it worse or better. And I don’t want to subject you to that if you don’t have to be.”

“Well, I’m okay with whatever you decide.”

“I know,” Blaine says softly.

: : :

They’re watching Moulin Rouge a few hours later and it gives Blaine some perspective. It might feel like he and Kurt are star-crossed lovers, sure, but they’re not _legit_ star-crossed lovers where one of them is like, forced to have sex with rich people and cough up blood while the other has a complete mental breakdown. It’s sort of calming, actually.

He’s sitting with his back against the headboard and Kurt sitting in between his legs, his back pressed firmly against Blaine’s chest. He’s cocking his head just slightly which gives Blaine a perfect opportunity to leave a small trail of kisses down his neck. He tries to keep them light and not apply too much pressure because shit, does Kurt’s skin bruise easily. Kurt’s just about to twist in his arms so they can take this a bit further, Ewan McGregor long forgotten, when suddenly —

Something crashes outside the door followed by a bunch of laughter. They both freeze because that laugh sounded alarmingly like Puck’s.

Then there’s another loud noise followed by some profanity followed by more laughing and shit, that is definitely Puck’s laugh.

Blaine stares at the door, wide-eyed, and Kurt is rigid, back still pressed against Blaine’s chest.

They both watch the door handle start to turn until Sam’s voice rises among the rest. “Hey, man, don’t go in there.”

“What?” Mike asks, voice a little muffled. “Why?”

“Blaine’s in there,” Sam says quickly.

“Yeah,” Mike says slowly. “It’s his room, too.”

“No, but —” Sam starts. “He’s in there with his boyfriend.”

Kurt tenses and Blaine can’t do anything but stare at the damn door handle.

“You’re shitting me,” Puck says. “Blaine is _finally_ getting some?”

There’s some movement and it sounds like Sam’s moving in front of the door. “No, seriously, dude, don’t. Give them some privacy.”

“Privacy?” Puck asks. “Fuck privacy, this a fucking frathouse.”

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. His voice is louder than the rest, probably right in front of the door. Kurt tenses even more and Blaine suddenly feels like he’s going to be sick. “The first time you bring over your girlfriend —or boyfriend, whatever — you know we’re allowed to humiliate you. It like, a rule.”

“Yeah,” Mike says, voice quiet. “I learned that the hard way.”

“Move over,” Puck says, probably to Sam. “I don’t care if their junk is hanging out, I’m going in there to meet this guy.”

Blaine knows they should probably move or shift or _something_ instead of sitting frozen on his bed, Kurt between his legs, no space between them.

“You hear that, Blaine?” Puck calls out. “Cover up your shit because I’m coming in to embarrass the fuck out of you.”

Finn laughs.

“No, seriously, _don’t,_ ” Sam says again, this time more emphatic. “I — it’s just — Kurt’s in there. What if they’re naked?”

Everyone stops laughing and suddenly it’s terrifyingly quiet.

“Kurt, my brother Kurt,” Finn says, voice steady.

“Uh. Yeah,” Sam says after a few beats.

“And you mean he’s in there _with_ Blaine and his boyfriend, right? And not that he _is_ Blaine’s boyfriend.”

He sighs. “Come on, man, let’s — I don’t know — don’t do this right now.”

And then slowly the door handle starts to turn, Finn not caring if his brother is naked, apparently, until the door is wide open and every single one of Blaine’s friends is staring at him. Finn’s right in the forefront, Artie peeking below his arm, Sam on his side, Puck and Mike right behind him.

Kurt sits there, stiff, and Blaine looks at all of them before eventually fixing his eyes on Finn’s.

Finn’s eyes narrow slightly. “You’re a dick,” he says quietly before turning away from the open doorway to head downstairs.

Puck follows him but Artie and Mike hang back for a few moments, surprise still written all over their faces. Finally, they turn to go until it’s just Sam there.

“Dude, I am so sorry,” he says quickly. “My phone’s dead. _Everyone’s_ phone is dead. It’s why we came back early. No one brought a charger and we couldn’t get any service so the battery just totally drained. Everything was closed because of some storm we’re supposed to get and — look, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do.”

Blaine nods and swallows. “It’s not your fault.”

Sam stands in the doorway awkwardly for a few moments before gesturing to the door. “Do you want me to leave this open — or like — are you going downstairs — should I —”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” Blaine says.

Sam nods and closes the door behind him.

They’re quiet for what seems like eternity.

“Are you okay?” he asks Kurt.

“Am _I_ okay?” he asks back, concerned. “ _Your_ friends just found out about us. This isn’t about me.”

Blaine laughs humorlessly. “Actually, this is _all_ about you.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything but finally, they both shift until they’re side by side, staring at the door.

“So I decided,” Blaine whispers. “I want you to stay. I need you to be here.”

“Okay,” he whispers back.

Blaine stands and walks to the door, taking a deep breath and holding his hand out to Kurt. Kurt reaches out to grab it and they look at each other.

“Are you ready for this?” Kurt asks quietly.

Blaine nods and they head downstairs to make their way into the living room, everyone else already there. Most of them are sitting on the couches but Finn’s standing by the TV, almost pacing, and looking totally pissed.

“Look, before you say anything, I just want you to know I’m sorry and I never —”

“You’re a dick,” Finn interrupts. “How long have you been doing this? Hiding him?”

Blaine grimaces. “Awhile. Long enough.”

A look of realization falls over Finn’s face. “This isn’t the karaoke guy, is it? That was like at the beginning of the semester!”

“I know,” Blaine says apologetically. “But back then it wasn’t about that —”

“And the guy from the party? They guy you moped about while you sat in mud?”

Kurt shifts next to him and mouths, _You sat in mud?_

“Yeah, it was him,” Blaine confirms, eyes still trained on Finn. “And actually, that’s sort of what I was going to say. I _tried_ not being with him—”

“You’re a dick,” Finn says again, not even listening to him. “You’re ashamed of _him_ , are you kidding me?”

Blaine gives him a quizzical look because he’s not exactly sure what that means but before he can say anything, Finn turns to Kurt.

“You can do better than this, Kurt. You _know_ you can. Dating someone that tries to hide you? Don’t you see how messed up that is? There’s probably a million guys out there that would like, parade you all around, ones that aren’t trying to pretend they don’t know you. Ones that aren’t _embarrassed._ ”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Blaine argues, thinking back to that moment in the kitchen when he flat-out lied to Finn, said that he didn’t even know who Kurt was. “You have no idea how not embarrassed I am. But the bro code—”

“The bro code,” Finn laughs, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, sure, that’s what this is about. And not the fact that you’re dating my brother _in secret_ because you’re a dick that probably thinks he some kind of convenient booty-call.”

“Wait, what?” Blaine asks, totally confused.

He can feel everyone’s eyes on them, darting back and forth between him and Finn.

“You’re a dick,” Finn says again for like the millionth time. “You’re just some asshole in a frat that takes advantage of people. How many secret boyfriends do you have, Blaine?”

“I — what does — just one,” he answers, trying to follow the conversation, to figure out what he’s missing. “Just the one.”

“Oh, sure,” Finn says, rolling his eyes again. “I buy that —”

“Okay, _stop_ ,” Blaine says, holding up his hands. “I’m missing something. Is this about the bro code or not?”

Finn narrows his eyes again. “Who cares about the bro code, Blaine. This is about you hiding a boyfriend because you’re a dick fratboy, one that screws around with a guy that’s probably way out of your league—”

“What do you _mean_ ‘who cares about the bro code’, Finn?” Blaine interrupts. “ _You_ care! You’ve brought it up a million times!”

“Like that applies to guys like you, come on, Blaine.”

Blaine’s mouth drops open slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs, irritated. “It means you say things like _yes, ma’am_ and _no, sir_ and wear sweater vests and one time you helped a lady out to her car with a bag of groceries.”

Blaine stares at him, speechless.

“So, wait,” Kurt interjects. “Are you trying to tell me that you don’t have a problem with Blaine dating me?”

“Hell yes I have a problem,” Finn answers. “If he’s sneaking around like you’re his dirty little secret, I have a problem.”

“No, no,” Kurt says. “I mean like, if we were completely open about this from the start, you wouldn’t have a problem?”

“No,” Finn says, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why would I?”

Kurt grips Blaine’s hand even tighter and turns to face him. “Are you _kidding me_ , Blaine Anderson? Are you listening to this? He wouldn’t have cared.”

“I —” Blaine starts. He can’t find any words, though.

“God, I am holding this over you _forever_. Every fight we ever have from here on out, I’m going to bring this up and say _hey Blaine, remember that time you broke up with me because you thought my brother would care about some dumb bro code but then he absolutely didn’t? Remember that?_ I will remind you forever,” Kurt repeats, eyes narrowed. “Remember this moment.”

“Okay, that seems fair,” Blaine says, blinking. “But Finn, I thought—”

“Is that what this is about?” Finn asks, cutting him off. He eyes Blaine warily. “You thought I’d be pissed about the bro code?”

Blaine shrugs helplessly. “Well, yeah. Seriously, you’re not?”

“No,” Finn says, slowly. “What sane person would care about you dating their sibling?”

“If I had a gay brother, I’d be totally down with you dating him,” Sam adds from his spot on the couch.

“Shit, if I had a _straight_ brother, I’d be okay with you dating him,” Artie says.

Blaine glances around the room, totally confused.

“Dude, you’ve got that whole chivalry thing down,” Finn tells him. “And like, you give people compliments. You don’t steal other people’s food from the fridge, which is more than anyone else in this house could say.”

“You wear sweater vests,” Puck points out.

“I said that one already,” Finn says defensively.

“You don’t have drunken one-night hookups,” Sam says.

“Everyone bought me a six-pack for my birthday,” Mike adds. “But you bought me a six-pack _and_ an ice cream cake. That’s pretty kick-ass.”

“You buy all of your music and movies,” Artie says. “You never illegally download anything.”

“See?” Finn asks. “Who would care?”

Blaine stares at them, dumbfounded. “Well now I kind of feel like an ass,” he says. “For hiding this.”

“And you should,” Kurt grits out. “I hate you right now.”

He gives Kurt a slow smile. Kurt’s look eventually softens but he doesn’t quite smile back.

Finn clears his throat. “But don’t like, screw with him, okay?”

Blaine nods. “I wouldn’t.”

“So basically,” Puck says with a smile that usually means he’s about to say something that makes him sound like a tool. “I think he’s saying he’s cool with you guys screwing each other, just not screwing _with_ each other.”

Everyone grimaces.

“And on that note,” Mike says carefully. “I think I’ll stay down here for awhile. Watch some movies. Or play a game. But not go upstairs into my room. For awhile.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, still slightly reeling. “I guess — thanks.”

When he tugs Kurt behind back upstairs, he says, “You’re delusional if you think I’m fooling around with you after that, Blaine. I’m still mad at you.”

“You have no idea how sorry I am, trust me,” he says, trying to hide his smile. “But be mad at me as we enjoy some alone time in my room. We can sit on my bed and I’ll list all of the ways I’m going to make it up to you. There are bullet points to my apology.”

Kurt eyes him warily once they’re alone. “Do any of these bullet points involve us being semi-clothed in your bed? Because no.”

“Semi-clothed in _a_ bed,” Blaine teases. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be mine in particular. But those come later. First it’s coffee. And dinner. And back rubs, which involve you being just _mildly_ unclothed in my bed.”

After an hour or so, Kurt lets Blaine start in on the unclothed bullet points, though.

: : : : :

_ Rule # 12  _ (again) _: There is a difference between celebrating and gloating. Act accordingly._

For the next month or so, most of Blaine’s conversations contain the phrase _my boyfriend_. It gives him an immediate, silent thrill each time but for everyone else? Not so much.

Mike’s the first to crack. He’s a pretty patient guy, sure, but it’s exams so they’re all a little on edge.

The three of them are in Blaine’s room, Mike at his desk trying to study for his last final while Kurt and Blaine are curled up into each other watching Wheel of Fortune on mute from Blaine’s bed.

“I can hear you,” Mike says, not looking up from his study guide.

“The TV’s on mute,” Blaine points out.

“Not the TV,” Mike sighs. “ _You_. I can hear you two whispering and smiling and flirting and … make it stop. Just make it stop.”

Kurt frowns and looks a little guilty.

“I only have three days left to hang out with my boyfriend before Christmas break, Mike. Three,” Blaine tells him, not even feeling a twinge of guilt.

“I know, Blaine, but—”

“And when you and Tina started dating, I spent like, five straight days at the library so you two could do — whatever it is that you two did.”

Mike hesitates. “But it’s _finals,_ Blaine. Don’t you two have finals to study for?”

“Not anymore,” Blaine answers, grinning. “You’d be amazed at how prepared you can feel for an exam after your boyfriend helps you make flashcards.”

Mike stares at them both and Kurt gives him a weak smile. “Do you need help with flashcards?” he asks Mike tentatively.

Blaine scoffs. “No way, you’re not helping him with flashcards. You’re staying right here so you can finish what you were saying. The thing about me being a modern day Disney Prince.”

Kurt looks a little embarrassed knowing that Mike’s actually listening and says, “I was finished.”

Blaine grins and pulls Kurt a little closer to him. “Okay, then start from the beginning. I don’t mind hearing the whole story again.”

“Blaine,” Kurt laughs quietly.

They go back to the whispering, flirting, smiling, laughing thing and Blaine blatantly ignores Mike the next time he quietly moans, “Make it stop, please make it stop.”

: : :

As romantic as it is, they say their goodbyes in the cafeteria. Blaine’s got his last exam in twelve minutes and Kurt’s dad is picking him up while Blaine’s still in class so it’s the last that they’ll see each other before Christmas break.

Even more romantic, most of Kurt’s friends happen to be milling around for the farewell, too.

“Two weeks,” Blaine says, eyes wide and fixed on Kurt’s. They’re standing only a few inches away from each other, his fingers wrapped around Kurt’s wrist.

“Two weeks,” Kurt echoes, staring back.

It’s quiet and then: “Please _tell_ me you’re not serious,” Mercedes says.

Kurt startles and looks over.

“It’s two weeks,” she says. “ _Pretty_ sure you’ll both survive.”

Blaine frowns and gives Kurt some pretty impressive puppy-dog eyes, some of his finest.

“That’s so romantic,” Tina says quietly from somewhere to Blaine’s left. “He’s swooning right before our eyes.”

Blaine ignores them both. “Don’t forget to text me when you get home.”

“I won’t,” Kurt says. “Good luck on your exam.”

Blaine nods. “And — and call me whenever. Or Skype. Or text. Or — anything.”

“Okay,” Kurt replies, smiling. “You, too. Whenever.”

Kurt’s phone buzzes right then, probably his dad letting him know he’s almost there to pick him up.

“I have a boyfriend,” Blaine says suddenly with a smile, apropos of nothing.

Kurt gives him a quiet laugh and nods. “You do.”

Blaine wraps his fingers into Kurt’s belt loops, not caring that Kurt’s friends are still watching, and tugs him closer. “My boyfriend will miss me over break.”

Kurt laughs again. “He will.”

They smile at each other before exchanging a quick, chaste kiss. It’s not exactly the note Blaine wants to end on but they’re in a public cafeteria in the middle of the day surrounded by Kurt’s friends, so.

: : :

Blaine’s helping his mom peel potatoes, telling her some story or another, he’s not even sure which one, when she sighs.

“ _Kurt_ ,” is all she says.

Blaine stops what he’s doing and gives his mom a quizzical look. “What?”

“You can call him ‘Kurt’, if you want, Blaine.”

“Okay,” he says slowly.

“You keep saying _my boyfriend_ in all of these stories _,”_ she clarifies. “You can just call him ‘Kurt’, sweetie. It’s less syllables.”

Blaine blinks down at the potato in his hand. “Really? I keep doing that?”

“Really,” she replies. She doesn’t sound annoyed, just amused.

“Oh,” he says. “Like, just right now?”

She shakes her head, running her hands under the water, and raises an eyebrow. “No. Since you’ve been back. Cooper’s been calling you _my brother_ this whole time but you haven’t picked up on it yet. I thought I’d clue you in before your dad starts in on the fun, too.”

“Huh,” Blaine says to himself.

They go back to peeling potatoes.

He catches himself doing it again a little while later while he sets the table but sort of doesn’t care. “I think I’ll keep calling him _my boyfriend_ , if it’s okay with you, Mom,” he says quietly. “Just for now. I like saying the words.”

She tilts her head and gives him an affectionate smile, the kind that only a mother could pull off. “Of course, sweetheart.”

So over break, his mom humors him and Cooper teases him and his dad sort of does a little of both but it’s worth it. Blaine just likes saying the words.

: : :

Blaine gets a call from Finn a few days before they go back to school.

“Tell him to _stop,”_ Finn says as soon as Blaine answers the call.

“Uh — what?” Blaine replies. “Hi, Finn.”

“He keeps saying my boyfriend _this_ and my boyfriend _that_ and I can’t even deal with it anymore,” Finn continues.

Blaine’s face slowly breaks out into a grin. “Really? What’s he saying?”

“Not the point,” Finn groans. “If I have to hear the words _my boyfriend_ one more time, I might go insane.”

Blaine frowns. “Well, he’s not wrong, Finn.”

The line is quiet.

“I mean, he _does_ have a boyfriend. So there’s really no reason for him to stop saying it.”

The line is quiet for a few more moments.

“Because I know _I’m_ going to keep saying it,” Blaine adds.

Finn is silent before he finally whispers, “You were supposed to be on my side for this. We’re fraternity brothers. You’re supposed to help me out.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, blinking. “Yeah, no.”

: : :

When they get back from break, the allure of the word still hasn’t really worn off.

“Hi!” Blaine says brightly one afternoon when he knocks on Kurt’s door and Stoner Brett answers.

Stoner Brett looks at him blearily like maybe he’s, well … _stoned,_ and says, “Hey?”

“I’m Blaine,” he says. “I’m Kurt’s boyfriend.”

: : :

“You game for Taco Bell?” Sam asks Blaine, eyes not leaving the TV screen as he tries to shoot someone on the other team.

“Nope,” Blaine says, shrugging on his jacket. “I’m meeting up with—”

The game suddenly pauses and Puck stands up to point his controller at Blaine. “If you say the words _my boyfriend_ , I swear to fuck I will unpause the game, kill everyone on the screen, then throw this controller at your fucking head.”

“— with … Kurt?” Blaine tries tentatively.

Puck lets out a sigh of relief and sits back down.

“Who is my boyfriend!” Blaine calls as he runs out of the house.

: : :

And then it gets even funner.

In mid-January, Blaine finally gets his chance with Books Return Beanie Guy.

“Hey,” Blaine whispers, leaning across the library table to Kurt. “You ready to get out of here?”

Kurt gives him a confused look. “We just got here.”

Blaine glances up at the book return desk and knows that he doesn’t have too much time. “We can come back later,” Blaine says quietly. “Let’s study in my room.”

Kurt gives him an unimpressed stare because it’s Tuesday which means Mike’s in class until ten p.m. so _study in my room_ actually means _get shirtless on my bed_.

Blaine tries not to act too startled when Kurt agrees and packs up his books. On their way out, Blaine stops them. “Oh wait, I have to return this first,” he tells Kurt, trying to sound casual.

Kurt eyes the German textbook in Blaine’s hand. “Are you taking German?”

“No,” Blaine says quickly. It just happened to be the first book he grabbed to check out when he initially came up with the plan three weeks ago.

“Okay,” Kurt says slowly. He doesn’t press the issue, thank god.

And then they step up to the book return desk and finally, his moment has arrived.

He hands the book over to the beanie kid and gives him a bright smile. “Hi. Just returning this.”

Beanie guy cocks his head, adjusts his glasses and gives him a polite smile. He kicks it up a few notches when he sees Kurt standing next to him. “Kurt!” he says.

“Hey, Chandler,” Kurt says back with a small wave.

Blaine subtly shifts until Kurt gets the hint.

“Oh, Blaine, this is Chandler. He was in one of my theater classes last semester.”

They smile at each other while Blaine waits for the follow-up.

“And Chandler, this is Blaine,” Kurt says, “My boyfriend.”

Hell _yes_ , those are some good words to hear.

: : :

The next week is even better.

It starts off innocently enough. Kurt’s got a lecture at ten thirty so Blaine walks him to class then plans on heading across the street to the library to do some studying before they meet up for lunch. The light drizzle turns into an all-out downpour as soon as they’re in Kurt’s building, though, so Blaine decides to just camp out at the end of the hallway instead of going to the library. What kind of guy makes his boyfriend walk to the cafeteria in the rain? Not Blaine. No, he’s the kind of guy that waits outside of his boyfriend’s lecture hall for two hours until his boyfriend gets out of class so that he can escort Kurt to the cafeteria under the safety and protection of Blaine’s umbrella.

About an hour and a half in, Blaine opens a notebook and one of Kurt’s papers comes fluttering out. He frowns at it for a minute, trying to figure out how something of Kurt’s found its way into Blaine’s bag but then remembers that sometimes at the end of the night, they’re not always too careful about whose work goes where when they’re racing the clock trying to fool around before Stoner Brett or Mike get back from class.

He puts it aside because he’s pretty sure it’s a paper for the class Kurt’s actually in _right now_.

Twenty minutes later, when people start filtering out of the class, Blaine packs up his things but keeps Kurt’s paper out. Eventually, the whole room empties with no sign of Kurt so Blaine peeks in and sure enough, Kurt’s sitting at his desk and frantically digging through his bag while British Beanie T.A. waits for him, smiling.

“It’s here, I _know_ it’s here,” Kurt says sounding nervous.

“It’s not,” Blaine tells him, making his way into the room. “I found it in my Calculus notes.”

Both Kurt and British T.A. look over at the sound of his voice and Kurt’s eyes widen. “Oh, thank _god,”_ he sighs, sounding relieved. “I could kiss you right now.”

Blaine pauses and smiles. “Wait, really?” He can feel the T.A. watching him.

Kurt hurries down to the front of the class and grabs the paper from Blaine’s hand. “Here you go, Adam,” he says, passing it to the T.A.

Adam smiles and says _thank you_ in his charming British accent.

“Blaine, this is my T.A.,” Kurt says. And then more importantly: “Adam, this is my boyfriend, Blaine.”

Blaine smiles and says _hello_ in his boring American accent.

“I cannot believe you waited for me with an umbrella, Blaine,” Kurt says quietly as they leave the classroom (but not so quiet that the British T.A. can’t hear.) “They don’t make better boyfriends than you.”

Blaine hums a response and can’t keep the pleased smile off of his face.

“I meant what I said. I really _could_ kiss you right now,” Kurt adds.

So Blaine directs them back towards his fraternity house instead of the cafeteria. Total bonus.

: : :

“So how about that coffee shop by the Business building?” Kurt suggests one afternoon, sounding way too nonchalant to actually be nonchalant.

“Hm?” Blaine asks, looking up from his book. “What about it?”

“We haven’t been there in awhile and —”

“We’ve _never_ been there,” Blaine interrupts, confused. It’s full of trust fund babies and business school snobs, the creepy ones that Kurt hates. The two of them _always_ avoid that coffee shop.

“Well, I think we should give it one more chance,” Kurt says, trying too hard to feign casual.

“Okay,” Blaine says slowly.

So they give it one more chance and surprise surprise, when they show up, it’s full of the snooty a-holes going for their MBAs and the biggest a-hole of of them all sidles up to them as soon as they walk up to the counter.

“Blaine Anderson,” Sebastian drawls. “What a pleasure.”

“Sebastian Smythe,” Blaine says, immediately awkward. “Nice to see you.”

Blaine cautiously looks at Kurt out of the corner of his eye and is surprised to see that he doesn’t seem irritated or angry or annoyed. Kurt’s actually … smiling.

“Hello,” Kurt says to Sebastian, eyebrow raised. “I don’t believe we’ve officially met.”

Blaine’s manners kick in. “Kurt, this is Sebastian. Our parents used to belong to the same country club. Sebastian, this is Kurt, my boyfriend.”

Kurt’s smile bumps up a notch and he never takes his eyes off of Sebastian’s. “Pleasure.”

Sebastian watches him carefully then glances down to their clasped hands before meeting Kurt’s eyes again. It’s like Blaine isn’t even _there_. “I’m sure it is,” Sebastian says finally.

They stare at each other for a few more moments and Blaine has no idea what’s going on but before he can ask about it or say anything or even order a coffee, Kurt says, “Let’s go back to your room, Blaine. This place smells like desperation.”

Blaine glances over to give him a confused look. “Smells like … what?”

Kurt doesn’t meet his eyes, though. He’s still watching Sebastian with a smirk. “Too many rich boys wanting what they just can’t have. It’s kind of sad.”

“Oh…kay?” Blaine says, sounding baffled.

Before he can say anything else, Kurt’s tugging him back toward the front door.

“So wait,” Blaine says, still trying to figure out the past five minutes. “Are we not getting coffee then?”

: : :

Blaine doesn’t clue in until much, much later but he eventually realizes that sometimes, Kurt needs to hear the words _my boyfriend_ just as much as Blaine does.

: : : : :

_ Rule #14 : Thou shalt never ever, ever, EVER love thy neighbor. Never date someone you see on a regular basis. _

So okay, Blaine’s in love with Kurt.

By early February, it’s glaringly obvious. He’s been in love for awhile, yeah, but February is when it first starts becoming really hard to _not_ say anything. He promised Kurt he’d take things slow and for the most part, he’s been pretty legit about it. So blurting out an accidental _I love you_ in the middle of the cafeteria or while they’re watching Top Model, that’s just not acceptable. He can’t do it. He _won’t_ do it.

But as the Valentine’s holiday settles across campus, Blaine realizes that’s he’s running out of time. He’s going to blurt those words out sooner or later; it’s fact. So he can either pretend it’s not happening and eventually deal with the fallout after he slips up and confesses his feelings over like, a plate of meatloaf — or.

Or. He can acknowledge the fact that those words are coming, that they’re here and they’re ready. Blaine’s _dying_ to say them out loud and he’s a little desperate to see Kurt’s reaction once they’re said. He can acknowledge all of that and start working on a plan.

Blaine Anderson is dating a self-proclaimed hopeless romantic and declaring his love over a plate of meatloaf is not an option.

: : :

He accidentally involves his fraternity house. It’s a terrible decision.

It starts because he can’t keep focus during their Sunday night video game. After the umpteenth time of being called out on it, he sort of snaps.

“What is your _deal,_ man?” Sam asks. “You suck tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine bites back, frustrated. “I’m trying to figure out how to tell my boyfriend I’m in love with him and it’s a little stressful, _okay?_ ”

It’s quiet and Blaine’s stomach sinks. Goddammit. He said that all out loud.

They all laugh and tease him and mock everything he says for the next hour but Blaine rolls with it because he knows the worst is yet to come.

: : :

Puck’s the first.

“Hey,” Puck says from the open doorway.

Blaine’s reading on his bed and against his better judgment, meets Puck’s eyes. “Hey.”

“If you really want to go all out with this _I love you_ shit, I’ve got a pretty sweet idea.”

“Oh,” Blaine says faintly. “No, that’s okay.”

Puck ignores him and takes a seat at Blaine’s desk. “Are you ready for this?” he says, pausing.

Blaine blinks. “Probably not, no.”

“Two words: Condom. Bouquet.”

Blaine blinks again.

“See, because it combines the romance _and_ the sex, Blaine. What dude wouldn’t dig that?” he asks, looking pretty impressed with himself.

Blaine sighs. “Probably most of them.”

But Puck is undeterred. “And I’m assuming you haven’t sealed the deal yet—”

“Puck, shut up, you sound like a jerk.”

“Hey, hey, no I just meant that he’ll probably think that’s romantic, right? That his man is all concerned about safe sex and shit?”

Blaine sighs again. “Yeah, I — sure, okay. I’ll think about it.”

He won’t. In actuality, he’s trying very hard to forget the conversation ever happened.

: : :

Then Artie.

“Picture this for your grand declaration of love,” Artie says the next afternoon as he wheels into Blaine’s room. “The scene begins with mood lighting, maybe a few dimmed lamps or the soft glow of candles. The bedroom door opens wide to reveal a trail of pastel notes along the back wall, each one with a word or two, the whole wall full of reasons you’re crazy in love. And the whole trail will lead to a crisply wrapped package in the middle of your bed, a pale blue box with a navy ribbon.”

Blaine blinks from his spot on his bed, meets Mike’s eyes briefly then looks back to Artie. “Uh. What?”

Artie shrugs. “Or — what’s Kurt’s favorite color? We can probably work around that.”

Blaine eyes him and ignores the question. “What’s in this pale blue box?”

He shrugs again. “It doesn’t matter; it’s for the visual effect.”

“Okay,” Blaine says slowly.

“So then we pan to Kurt as he takes in the scene, the pure emotion of it all, unshed tears glistening in his eyes.”

Blaine closes his book and gives him a suspicious look. “Why are you describing it like that? Like you’re trying to film it?”

“What? _Damn_ , Blaine, give me more credit than that,” he scoffs. Then there’s a brief pause. “Unless you _want_ me to film it because then _hells yes_. You’d have something for posterity’s sake to show your future adopted Asian babies—”

Mike swivels in his chair and levels an unimpressed stare.

“—and I could add it to my portfolio,” Artie continues, oblivious. “You know, something to really show my versatility as a director. A gay love story? That’s _gold_.”

“No,” Blaine says immediately. “To the filming, I mean. Let me get back to you on the wall notes thing.”

The next day, Blaine heads up to his room after his morning classes and freezes when he sees Mike standing in the doorway.

“What … happened here,” Mike says quietly as he takes in the scene.

Blaine stares at the walls and answers, “I … have no idea.”

He steps towards the back wall to get a closer look at the trail of little yellow Post-It notes that run from one corner of the room all the way to Blaine’s bed, ending at what looks like a cereal box wrapped in newspaper, a shoelace neatly tied into a bow resting on top. Blaine reads the first few Post-Its, hastily written compliments in Artie’s awful handwriting, things like _smokin bod_ and _hella sexy hair_. Blaine pauses and frowns as he tries to figure out if Artie’s just trying to set the scene or if he genuinely thinks Blaine’s boyfriend has a smoking body and sexy hair. It’s kind of disconcerting so he makes a conscious decision to ignore the next ones ( _probably pretty damn flexible, right?_ and then even worse, _you know what they say about guys with big feet_ ) because ugh, why is Artie noticing Kurt’s feet and/or flexibility? They eventually veer into random song lyrics: _you are the wind beneath my wings_ followed by _you are the sunshine of my life_ and then _you are the music in me._

Blaine stares at the Post-Its, a little dumbfounded.

“This one says something creepy about the color of his eyes,” Mike says as he squints at a Post-It above his own desk.

“Yeah, well, he’s quoting Bette Midler _and_ High School Musical over here, which is definitely worse.”

“Oh, awesome, you’re here. So this is just to show you my vision,” Artie says as he rolls into the room. “Remember that’s it’s not actually what the finished product will —”

“No,” Blaine interrupts. “To everything.”

Mike helps him un-peel the stickers and Artie rolls away, muttering something about how no one understands true visionaries anymore.

: : :

Next up, Sam.

It’s a Saturday afternoon and Blaine’s agreed to steer clear of his room so that Mike and Tina can have a few hours alone. He’s been steering clear a lot, partially because he’s a kickass roommate but more so because he’s trying to bank up as many favors from Mike as he can until he has enough to eventually score a whole weekend alone with Kurt.

So because he’s been sexiled, his choices are watching scrambled porn in the back living room or watching college basketball with Sam. Blaine’s not exactly a huge fan of basketball but he’s even _less_ a fan of scrambled straight porn.

“What about taking him to a game?” Sam says out of nowhere during the third period.

Nobody’s said anything in the past thirty minutes so Blaine startles at the sudden conversation. “What?”

“You know, like, take him to a pro game somewhere. It probably doesn’t cost that much to buy one of those ads on the scoreboard. If they charge by the letter, a simple _I love you, Kurt_ can’t be super expensive, right?”

Sam keeps his eyes on the TV and Blaine stares at his profile.

“Kurt, as in my boyfriend Kurt,” Blaine clarifies.

“Yeah,” Sam says, cocking his head while he watches someone make a free-throw.

“Right,” Blaine says, frowning. “And you’ve met him? My boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Sam says again.

Blaine stares at him some more. “So okay — and I’m genuinely interested in your response here — what is it about Kurt that makes you think he’d like the first time I say _I love you_ to be on a scoreboard at a pro basketball game?”

Sam shrugs. “He’s a theater major, right? Don’t actors like being on camera? I bet he’d totally think those Kiss Cams would be super romantic.”

Blaine turns back to the TV, not even bothering to reply. It’s a terrible idea but hey, at least it’s not a condom bouquet.

: : :

Then it’s Mike’s turn, although he only offers because he sees Blaine’s slowly starting to panic the closer it gets to Valentine’s Day.

“A home-cooked meal, man, I’m telling you that it’s the way to go.”

Blaine looks unconvinced. “I don’t know,” he tells Mike warily. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It’s fine,” Mike insists. “You just psych yourself out when it comes to the kitchen.”

“I don’t think I’m psyching myself out at all,” Blaine argues. “I think I’m just one of those people that’s genuinely bad at cooking.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Well, you learn. No one’s hopeless.”

“I don’t know,” Blaine says, still leery. “I might be.”

Mike gives him another eyeroll.

Thirty minutes later, though, after he’s taste tested Blaine’s chicken casserole, Mike finds himself hunched over a toilet bowl and a little more inclined to agree.

“See?” Blaine says, sort of freaking out. “I _told_ you!”

“I took a phone call for _five minutes_ , Blaine,” Mike says between his bouts of nausea. “What did you do to that chicken while I was gone?”

“I don’t know!” Blaine says, freaking out a little more. “What should I be doing? Calling a doctor? My mom? I’ve never accidentally food poisoned someone before!”

Mike ignores him and says, “Go throw your food away before someone else eats it. Just — go do … that.”

Blaine nods and runs towards the kitchen to throw away the remnants of his hazardous casserole.

So that’s how the home-cooked meal idea goes.

: : :

And lastly, there’s Finn.

“Hey,” he says, cornering Blaine in the kitchen after breakfast one morning.

Blaine eyes him cautiously. “Hey, Finn.”

“So out of everyone here, I know my brother the best,” he says.

He shrugs. “Okay, agreed.”

“So here’s what you want to do. Like, a jacuzzi or a bath or something. Old time ballads playing in the background. He’ll love it.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow. “Where am I supposed to find a jacuzzi in February?”

“Get a hotel,” Finn says, giving him a dubious look. “Like every hotel everywhere has a room with a jacuzzi.”

Blaine feels his face heat up. “I can’t — I’m not buying a _hotel room,”_ he says. “I’m not that guy.”

Finn rolls his eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal. If there’s a jacuzzi, free HBO, and one of those free bathrobes, he’ll be stoked.”

“It _is_ a big deal,” Blaine argues. “We haven’t — look, we’re not … you know, _that._ We’re taking it slow, okay? And me getting a hotel room, well, there’s all sorts of implications there.”

Finn watches him carefully. “Okay,” he says finally. “That’s cool. That’s — it’s good, I’m glad. Not — I mean, not like I _don’t_ want you to have a killer sex life, Blaine. I just think — you know, as his brother, it looks pretty legit that you two are being all mature and serious about it, that you’re being like, _respectful_ —”

Blaine grimaces. “You’re pretty much the last person I ever want to discuss my sex life with, so.”

Finn nods. “Right. Totally. I’m with you on that.”

There’s an awkward silence.

“Okay, well then how about some big romantic bath _here_?”

Blaine’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “Have you seen the bathtubs here, Finn? Would _you_ bathe in one?”

Finn doesn’t even bother answering that. “Okay, how about Wes’s private one? It’s huge and he always keeps it crazy clean. Plus, he’ll probably be visiting his girlfriend the whole weekend.”

Blaine briefly mulls it over before he remembers that none of the bathrooms have locks on the doors. “That’s probably not a good plan. The idea of any of you guys accidentally walking in on my naked boyfriend … I have a feeling he’d never forgive me.”

Finn looks a little uneasy at the idea of of discussing his naked brother.

“Plus,” Blaine continues. “You guys sort of have a terrible habit of wandering into the bathrooms half-drunk and half-naked. If he had to see anyone in my fraternity undressed, I have a feeling he’d never forgive me for _that_ , either.”

Finn doesn’t argue.

“And if he somehow saw _you_ naked,” Blaine says, “I think he’d be traumatized for life. Ten dollars says he’d break up with me right on the spot.”

“Okay,” Finn says with a shrug. “So we’ll agree not to accidentally walk around half-naked when he’s here.”

Blaine blinks. “You can’t guarantee that.”

Finn’s quiet for a minute. “Yeah, you’re right, I can’t.”

Blaine sighs.

“Good luck, bro,” Finn says, leaving Blaine all alone in the kitchen.

Blaine is quickly running out of options.

: : :

In the end, it’s not some big elaborate ordeal and it’s better than Blaine could have ever planned it.

He’s decided that he’ll just do it over dinner. They have reservations for Valentine’s Day and he figures he’ll grab Kurt’s hand in his own after dessert and just … say it. They’ll smile and laugh and then kiss outside while they wait for a cab and the whole thing will be terribly romantic.

He’s thinking about the specifics of it, if he’ll make it simple or have some kind of build-up, as they sit across from each other in his room the night before Valentine’s Day. He’s watching Kurt as they both work on papers and he can’t stop smiling. He can’t stop thinking about how close he is to saying _God, I love you, Kurt_. But he stops himself and remembers that it’s just one more day, just one more.

Kurt glances up right then and catches Blaine watching him with a soft smile. Blaine looks away quickly, embarrassed.

After several moments of silence, Kurt quietly says, “I’ve changed my mind, you know.”

He meets Kurt’s eyes again and he’s immediately self-conscious. Kurt’s staring at him like maybe he’s the sun and the moon and all of the good things in between and Blaine can’t help but feel on edge in the best possible way.

“Oh?” Blaine says, voice suddenly breathless. “About what?”

Kurt gives him a shy smile. “Turns out that the be-all-end-all love of my life is in a fraternity after all.”

Blaine eyes widen slightly and he swallows thickly.

“It’s you, if you were wondering,” Kurt says quietly after a long pause. “I’m in love with you.”

Blaine’s breath hitches. “Oh,” he says dumbly. And then after a few moments, he whispers, “Well, I’ve been hoping you’d change your mind.”

Kurt grins in response.

A few minutes later, Blaine remembers to say it back. “And — I love you, too, you know.”

They stare at each other and smile and —

So okay, Blaine’s in love with Kurt.

And Kurt’s in love, too.

It’s better than Blaine could have ever planned it.

: : : : :

_ Rule #15 : Thou shall not act accordingly during a fraternity formal. And remember that it’s just a temporary, week-long fling. _

There’s a long weekend in early March right between the end of the first quarter and the beginning of the second when they have their yearly formal. And it’s epic.

Blaine tries to explain it to Kurt a few weeks beforehand because he doesn’t seem to fully grasp the importance of it. He leans across the cafeteria table, eyes wide and serious, before pushing Kurt’s tray away to make sure he’s got his undivided attention.

“It’s this huge party,” Blaine tells him. “There’s a bus that takes us up to the city where we rent out this huge banquet hall in a super fancy hotel. There’s a DJ and it’s catered and an open bar and — it’s a big deal.”

Kurt looks unimpressed. “You guys have a party almost every week, ones with free liquor and terrible R&B. This doesn’t sound much different.”

“But it is,” Blaine argues. “It’s a  _ real _ open bar, not some watered down keg in our kitchen. And a  _ real _ DJ, not Artie’s iPod hooked up to a speaker.”

Kurt still doesn’t seem to get it.

“And it’s a  _ formal _ . Like, suits, ties, shiny dress shoes.”

Kurt’s attention is suddenly piqued. “Suits?”

Blaine grins. “Yes. It’s like prom but with an open bar and a whole table of cakes.”

Kurt cocks his head. “Go on. I’m listening.”

“And it’s a big deal to be invited, you know,” Blaine says, still smiling. “Girls spend all year angling for an invite.”

“Hm,” Kurt says. “So is this you asking me? Because I don’t believe I’ve received an official invitation yet.”

Blaine leans even closer and kicks up his grin. “Kurt Hummel, will you accompany me to my fraternity formal?”

Kurt returns the smile. “You had me at ‘shiny dress shoes’.”

: : :

“So it’s basically a week-long event,” Blaine tells him a few days later. “Mostly everyone skips class on Wednesday for a whole day of drinking and … well, you know,  _ more _ drinking. There’s a few bars that kind of turn a blind eye to the underage thing.”

Kurt’s highlighting a few lines in his textbook but Blaine can tell he’s listening. They’re sitting at their usual table in the library, one in the back corner, far enough away from everyone else that they can have a quiet conversation without needing to actually whisper.

“The bus takes us up to New York on Thursday and we spend the next three days —”

“Drinking?” Kurt asks. “Just a wild guess.”

Blaine blinks. “—okay, yeah, there’s some drinking. But it’s not  _ just  _ drinking.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push the issue.

“Anyways, then the formal is Sunday night. We stay up in the city on Monday so that no one’s stuck on a bus with a hangover then we head back on Tuesday for a full day of recovery.” He gives Kurt a big smile even though Kurt’s still focused on his work. “It’s seriously awesome. You’re totally going to love it.”

Kurt looks up and gives him a smile. “It sounds fun.”

“Fun,” Blaine scoffs. “It’s  _ epic.” _

Kurt shakes his head and goes back to his work. “Sure, that’s what I meant.”

Blaine’s quiet for a few minutes. “But just in the interest of full disclosure, you might feel .. a little out of place.”

Kurt’s head shoots back up. “Meaning I’ll be the only male date there?”

“What?” Blaine asks quizzically. “No. Meaning you’ll be the only boyfriend there.  _ I’m _ bringing my boyfriend and a couple of other guys are probably bring their girlfriends, but everyone else is sort of … a random.”

Kurt eyes him suspiciously. “Meaning …”

“Meaning,” Blaine starts, choosing his words carefully. “Meaning that the formal is basically a drawn out one night stand. Guys usually invite a girl — or guy — that they plan on fooling around with for a week and then after that … well, there  _ is _ no after that.”

“I see,” Kurt says, an unreadable expression on his face. “A spring fling.”

Blaine shrugs. “Yeah, sort of. It’s what everyone does so I just wanted to let you know that legit relationships, well, we’re sort of in the minority that week.”

“It’s what everyone does,” Kurt echoes, watching Blaine carefully.

“Yeah,” he answers, not really sure what to make of Kurt’s expression. “Unless you’re dating someone, obviously, but outside of that, yeah. It’s a fraternity formal tradition, really. A super intense short-lived relationship.”

Kurt hums but doesn’t say anything else. He focuses back on his textbook. “I should really start planning my wardrobe then.”

Blaine can’t keep the smile of off his face. “Definitely. I’m so glad you’re coming. This will be the best formal ever.”

: : :

When that Wednesday finally rolls around, Blaine goes to two of his morning classes then skips everything else. Most of the guys are already half-drunk when he gets back the house but Blaine paces himself so that he’s not fall-down drunk by the time Kurt meets up with them after his classes. Three beers and two shots later, sitting in the middle of the crowded pub a few blocks over, Kurt’s finally slipping into the chair next to him.

“You came,” Blaine says with a smile, leaning in to kiss his totally sober boyfriend. “You’re here.”

Kurt gives him an amused look. “And you’re drunk.”

Blaine shakes his head. “No, not yet.”

Kurt keeps smiling but doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he glances around the pub and looks a little overwhelmed, probably because Blaine’s fraternity house has basically taken over the whole place. Between the brothers and their dates, they’ve filled up most of the tables and at least half of the bar.

“There are a  _ lot  _ of people here,” Kurt says finally.

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees. “The entire fraternity and their plus ones.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow and gives Blaine a flirty smile. “Wait, two weeks ago you told me I was part of an elite group and now I’m just a ‘plus one’? Seems like quite the demotion.”

Blaine returns the teasing grin and leans close until he’s got his forehead resting against Kurt’s. “You’re  _ my _ plus one. That’s still terribly elite.”

Kurt huffs out a laugh. “Is that so.”

And then they’re kissing but Blaine doesn’t even realize it until he gets pelted with a few french fries. When they break apart, half the table erupts into laughter.

Frat guys are dicks, basically.

Twenty minutes later, Blaine orders Kurt a strawberry daiquiri when he finds out that he doesn’t really have a favorite drink.

“We’ll find it,” Blaine says with a smile. “Over the course of this week, I’ll help you find your favorite drink.”

“There are a lot of people here,” Kurt says again, not really paying attention. “And they’re all drunk.”

“The girls have been pre-gaming it for awhile,” Blaine explains. “And it only gets worse as the week goes on. They end up in catfights or making out with each other or dancing half naked on a tabletop.”

“Classy,” Kurt says.

“And the guy dates are no better, by the way. At least half of them will end up making out with each other instead of the fraternity brother that actually invited him.”

Kurt wrinkles his nose in distaste.

“It’s a free trip to New York,” Blaine continues. “Most people here are looking for a week-long fling. I don’t think they even care who it’s with.”

“How tacky,” Kurt says, frowning. “Well, I, for one, actually  _ do _ care who I end up making out with.”

They sort of try to lean in for a kiss again but more fries come flying their way followed by a piece of garlic bread.

Frat guys are dicks.

: : :

“Three things you need to know,” Blaine tells him a few hours later. He’s well on his way to drunk and Kurt’s definitely a little tipsy. “One: be wary of like, at least a quarter of these girls. They get super drunk and super clingy and then start drama if their date tries to spend some time with his friends.”

Kurt blinks. “Don’t be clingy,” he says. “Noted.”

“Two: there will be flirting. A lot of it. Coming from everyone. I’m learning to accept it so just — you know, run with it. Don’t freak out.”

“Oh,” Kurt says, a weird look on his face. “Right. Okay.”

“And three,” Blaine finishes, hesitating. “They divide the rooms by couples so we’ll be staying in the same room but I — there’s no expectations, okay? I don’t want it to look like I’m pressuring you or speeding things up or anything, I swear. Nothing has to happen. _Nothing_.”

Kurt’s still got that weird look. “Nothing’s happening, okay. Got it.”

Blaine gives him a warm smile. “This is going to be so much better than last year. I’m glad you’re here.”

Kurt watches him carefully for a few moments then returns the smile. “Me, too.”

: : :

“You’re right,” Kurt says, an hour before last call. “These are good. I like these.”

Blaine smiles at him as Kurt holds up his empty strawberry daiquiri. He’s definitely half-drunk and _god_ it’s adorable.

“Are we leaving? Or can I order another one?”

“We’re not leaving,” Blaine says, still wearing his swoony smile. “Go for it.”

He heads up to the crowded bar so Blaine starts talking to the guy next to him, one of the really quiet freshmen. A good ten minutes go by before Blaine realizes that Kurt’s still not back. He looks over to the bar and spots Kurt immediately. And the guy next to him. Who is touching Kurt’s elbow and leaning in close.

Blaine stares at the two of them. It’s sort of weird.

Kurt turns then, though, and points to Blaine as he says something to the random bar guy. The guy nods and gives Kurt a bright smile then goes back to his drink. A few moments later, Kurt’s sliding back into his chair next to Blaine.

He gives Kurt a forced smile and tries to sound casual. “Someone you know?”

“No,” Kurt says, shaking his head. He doesn’t say anything else and it’s just … it’s still sort of weird.

Suddenly, Blaine’s grabbing Kurt’s face with both hands and almost crawling into his lap, not even caring how many of his fraternity brothers are watching. It’s not a gentle kiss or a sweet tender moment, not even a little. No, Blaine’s kissing him fiercely, roughly. There’s clacking teeth and it’s messy and forceful and when he finally pulls back, Kurt’s breathing has turned shallow and he’s staring at Blaine with wide eyes.

Blaine stares back, not really sure what to say.

Kurt briefly glances over his shoulder to the bar then turns back to face Blaine. He’s smiling.

Neither of them say anything but Blaine subtly shifts until they’re sitting even closer, until he practically _is_ sitting in Kurt’s lap. Kurt’s quiet, an amused smile still on his face.

It sets the tone for the week. It all sort of goes downhill from there.

: : :

On Thursday, the bus picks them up in the afternoon and Kurt spends the entire ride sleeping, head on Blaine’s shoulder. He wakes up twenty minutes before they get to the hotel and looks at Blaine with wide, apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep on you the whole time.”

“It’s fine,” Blaine says, shrugging. It was more than fine, really, because it was comfortable and sort of relaxing and it gave Blaine a chance to peacefully stare out the window instead of listening to his friends argue for like _the millionth time_ about which Charlie’s Angel was the hottest.

“But — I didn’t mean to keep you stuck up here instead of back there with your friends.”

“It’s really okay,” Blaine says, a quizzical look on his face. “Seriously, it’s fine.”

Kurt doesn’t look entirely convinced but he lets it go.

: : :

They hang out for a bit at the hotel then they all walk around the city for awhile until they end up at some hole-in-the-wall Italian bar.

“Italian,” Blaine says to Kurt with a wide grin. “I’m ordering you a Bellini.”

The drink ends up being a success and a couple of hours later, Kurt’s up at the bar to order his third drink and another beer for Blaine. Blaine’s in mid-conversation with Artie when he glances over to see Kurt talking to another bar random. The guy is leaning _way_ into Kurt’s personal space and they’re both laughing, standing incredibly close to each other. Kurt’s holding his boyfriend’s beer while blatantly flirting with another guy. Blaine’s stomach sort of clenches up.

It’s not a good feeling.

It’s almost like he knows he’s being watched, though, because he looks up and meets Blaine’s eyes right then, a small unreadable smile playing on his lips, and Blaine can’t figure out what it’s supposed to mean. Kurt suddenly leaves the bar random and heads back to Blaine, handing over the drinks and saying, “Here’s your beer. Will you hold mine? I need to use the men’s room.”

Blaine nods, quiet, and watches Kurt head towards the back.

Ten seconds later, he’s shoving both drinks into Artie’s hands. He quickly follows Kurt and manages to catch up to him as he’s rounding the hallway, right before he makes it to the restrooms.

Kurt only looks partly surprised when Blaine grabs his elbow, turns him around, and pushes him up against the wall. He leans in and presses his entire body up against Kurt’s then kisses him so hard that he’s almost dizzy with it. Kurt’s basically pinned, not able to go anywhere even if he wanted to — but judging by how tightly he’s gripping Blaine’s waist, how forcefully he’s tugging Blaine even _closer_ , it doesn’t seem like he wants to.

Blaine’s vaguely aware that anybody could walk down the darkened hallway to see them two steps away from dry humping each other against a wall but he doesn’t give a shit, not even for a second.

They break apart, breathless, and stare at each other.

“Hi,” Kurt says with a small smile.

Blaine swallows thickly, feeling like some weird territorial asshole, and tries to return the smile. “Hi,” he says back.

He doesn’t really leave Kurt’s side for the rest of the night. Kurt doesn’t seem to mind.

Nothing changes when they get back to the hotel room. They don’t fool around because god, Blaine’s not going to push Kurt into anything while they’re both half-drunk. But he pulls Kurt in close and doesn’t let go.

: : :

Friday is more of the same, really.

They spend the morning wandering around the city with most of Blaine’s friends and their dates. Which, oddly, includes Blaine’s Bio lab partner, Santana, and the blonde cheerleader she was eying in the beginning of the year. Blaine doesn’t have the heart to tell Puck or Finn that their dates probably aren’t putting out this weekend. Not with them, at least.

It’s a pretty good morning. Even though Blaine’s fraternity brothers aren’t really the kind of guys Kurt would hang out with normally, they all seem to get along and he genuinely looks like he’s having a good time.

Their server sort of hits on Kurt when they go out to lunch, which is pretty unsurprising, but Kurt almost encourages him, which _is_ surprising.Blaine meant what he said a few days ago: he’s accepted the fact that people will be flirting with Kurt like, _constantly._ Blaine knew it was coming and he really wasn’t worried. Kurt letting them flirt, though? _That_ part he didn’t see coming.

It’s not a good feeling.

They see a show in the afternoon, just the two of them, so that they can spend a few hours together. It sort of makes things worse, though, because he ends up having to watch both the guy behind the concession stand _and_ a guy waiting outside the restroom hit on his boyfriend.

Needless to say, Blaine’s already on edge by the time they get to the Irish pub that night. They’re all crowded into a small booth in a corner and even though he and Kurt are pressed close from shoulder to thigh, he still feels a little uneasy.

“Golden Green Apple,” Blaine suggests. “Irish whiskey but still kind of fruity. I think you’ll like it.”

Kurt cocks his head and smiles and for a minute, Blaine thinks that maybe they’re the only two people in the whole world. He feels like a tool because Kurt’s looking at him like he’s the only person in the entire room and suddenly Blaine can’t remember why he’s felt the need to be some territorial d-bag these past few days.

…And then twenty minutes later, some blond guy at the bar has his hand on Kurt’s bicep as Kurt’s waits for his drink and Blaine’s beer.

Goddammit.

Blaine forces his way out of the booth, pushing Mike and Finn out of the way, then walks up to the bar. He doesn’t wait for their drinks or make polite eye contact with the guy still standing way too close to his boyfriend. No, instead he grabs Kurt’s hand and tugs him away from the bar, away from the blond random, away from everyone in his fraternity, away from any prying eyes. He pulls Kurt until they’re outside, until they round the corner of the building, then pushes him roughly against the brick wall and forces himself into Kurt’s personal space.

“God, Kurt,” he says.

Kurt doesn’t ask him what that’s supposed to mean and Blaine doesn’t elaborate.

Kurt tugs his wrists free from where Blaine has them pushed against the well so that he can grab Blaine’s jaw and pull him closer. They kiss hard, somehow more frantic than the past few nights. He crowds even more into Kurt’s space but really, it’s not all that possible to get any closer than they already are. He reaches up and starts fumbling with the buttons on Kurt’s shirt — _god_ why is he wearing clothes right now — and it’s not until he has two buttons already undone that he realizes that Jesus, he trying to undress his boyfriend in the middle of the street.

He swallows thickly and takes a step back. “I — God, I’m sorry.”

Kurt’s arms fall uselessly by side as Blaine steps away. “What? Why? No, it’s okay, Blaine —”

He shakes his head, barely able to make eye contact. He feels miserable and embarrassed and so pathetically possessive. “We should — let’s go back inside.”

Kurt’s quiet for few moments. “Okay,” he says finally, voice soft.

They get another drink when they re-join the rest of the guys inside and, just like the day before, Blaine spends the night by Kurt’s side, never able to convince himself to move away. He holds Kurt’s hand tightly in his own, too, never able to convince himself to let go.

Nothing really happens in the hotel room that night either. Kurt tangles his legs with Blaine’s and lies his head on his shoulder. He gently brushes his palm up Blaine’s chest and down to his stomach and back up again. His fingers catch more than once on the fabric of Blaine’s t-shirt but thankfully, he falls asleep before Blaine’s resolve totally disappears.

: : :

When they get to the German buffet/bar on Saturday night, Blaine’s a little more prepared. He has a game plan so he starts the night feeling calmer, relaxed in a way he hasn’t felt for a few days. He makes Kurt try all kinds of German food, dumping spoonfuls of everything imaginable on his plate as Kurt tries to halfheartedly protest.

“And a cherry daiquiri,” Blaine says, setting the glass in front of Kurt as he comes back from the bar with the cocktail and his German draft beer.

Kurt eyes it warily.

“German brandy but it’ll taste like cherries, I promise,” Blaine tells him.

And again, the drink is a success. A little later, when Kurt moves to go get them each another drink, Blaine pats his hand and says, “No, no, you stay here. I can get our drinks.” Because after three days, Blaine has learned from his mistakes. Kurt can’t flirt with random guys at the bar if he doesn’t like, _go to the bar_.

It’s his game plan and it seems good in theory until he glances over towards their table after waiting at the bar for a good ten minutes. Some guy from the table next to theirs — someone who’s like, twenty five and most definitely not in Blaine’s fraternity — is scooting his chair a little closer to Kurt’s and Blaine has to stand there and watch, thirty feet away and helpless.

Kurt glances up twice to make brief eye contact with Blaine and gives him a coy smile. Blaine can’t help but feel frustrated because it’s almost like Kurt’s being deliberately obtuse about the whole thing and it’s starting to drive him a little insane.

Which is why, thirty minutes and two beers later, Blaine finds himself not-so-gently shoving Kurt into an empty booth a few tables away from everyone else, pushing him up against the wall and crowding into his space. He starts tugging at Kurt’s tie but he can’t figure out if it’s because he wants to pull Kurt closer or if he’s just trying to make sure that Kurt can’t get can’t away. The embarrassment washes over him again at the idea of so publicly throwing himself at his boyfriend but this time, he can’t find the strength to pull away. His pants are uncomfortably tight, his friends are twenty feet away, and he’s only three steps from getting escorted off the premises for public indecency.

Kurt’s really not protesting. He’s doing his fair share of tugging, too, and he’s eventually got Blaine half straddling him. Blaine’s hands wander all over Kurt’s chest and his shoulders and his waist and his arms and like, anywhere else he could possibly touch. He’s biting at Kurt’s neck and god, he’s almost sitting on top of him so he can _feel_ Kurt responding and _shit,_ he’s making these little sighs that practically sound obscene and Blaine is about two minutes from losing his mind in the middle of a goddamn German bar.

There’s no way he’s going to have any kind of self-restraint so it’s sort of a relief when Puck flops down across from them. “Come on, you fuckers,” he says. “Get a room.”

Blaine sits back suddenly, eyes wide, and shifts so that he’s not borderline straddling his boyfriend anymore.

“He’s kidding,” Kurt whispers, watching Blaine carefully. “Don’t stop.”

Blaine’s mouth sort of falls open at the idea of Kurt actually _encouraging_ this whole inappropriate dry-humping vibe because _what the hell._ Public sex isn’t really Kurt’s thing just like blatant displays of territorial aggression aren’t really Blaine’s. The world seems to be tilted on its axis, though, because Kurt’s practically pleading with Blaine to continue and Blaine’s forcibly holding himself back from like, marking Kurt’s skin just to let everyone know that Kurt is _taken_.

He can’t move away from Kurt fast enough because _Jesus,_ he’s like one of those spider monkeys on the Discovery Channel, the ones that throw branches and their own feces to ward off other males.

Blaine takes a deep breath as he climbs out of the booth, away from Kurt, because holy shit, he just compared himself to a poop-flinging monkey and that’s definitely hitting an all-time low.

It’s not a good feeling.

He gets another drink then heads outside for a few minutes to get some air. When he clears his head and starts feeling like a normal human being again, he joins everyone else at the table. His friends are all totally loaded and thankfully, no one calls him out on the fact that he was practically having sex with Finn’s brother in a booth in the back of of German buffet bar.

Just like the past few nights, Blaine doesn’t leave Kurt’s side. And just like the night before, Blaine laces his fingers with Kurt’s and keeps it that way until they close the bar. But this time, he tugs Kurt down so that he’s sitting on Blaine’s lap. Kurt huffs out an embarrassed laugh at first but then relaxes into it. He looks a little amused and a lot surprised but he doesn’t look _uncomfortable_ so Blaine tries not to stress about it. He’s definitely not the only fraternity brother with a date sitting his lap so he pretends that it’s totally normal and that’s it not about the fact that he’s half paranoid to let Kurt out of his sight.

Blaine reminds himself that tomorrow, there is no bar. They’re at a catered event in a hotel banquet hall and there is no bar. And because there is no bar, there is no way for bar randoms to flirt with his boyfriend. More importantly, because there is no bar, there is no way for his boyfriend to flirt with bar randoms.

He’s a lot more possessive that night back in their room and even though no one’s around to see, Blaine’s still pretty ashamed of himself. He envelops Kurt almost immediately and desperately tries to think of something — _anything_ — other than the fact that Kurt’s _right there_ , ready and willing. He reminds himself over and over again that Kurt’s ready and willing only because he’s drunk and not because he wants their first time to be in a strange hotel room, his boyfriend smelling like cheap German beer.

He sighs with relief as soon as Kurt falls asleep.

: : :

There are, however, cater waiters at the formal on Sunday. And it’s the same concept.

“You look _fantastic_ , by the way _,_ ” Blaine says. He leans in close to Kurt as someone takes their dinner plates away and gives him a bright smile. “Like, really fantastic.”

Kurt preens. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Anderson. You clean up quite well.”

“Why, thank you, Kurt,” he says, still smiling.

The DJ starts playing The Electric Slide right then and Blaine leans in even closer. “Don’t forget to save a dance or two for me.”

Kurt watches him and quietly says, “You can have all of them.”

They spend most of the night, well, _drinking,_ and for the most part, Kurt matches him glass for glass. Blaine makes him try a little of everything so by the time Kurt finishes his apple Sangria and declares it his favorite, they’re both already well past ‘buzzed’ and about to leave the ‘tipsy’ territory, too. Next stop, ‘pretty wasted’. Final destination: total inebriation.

By the time the DJ starts to play Sir Mix-a-Lot, there are already a handful of half-naked drunk girls trying to dance on a few of the tables but thankfully not the one he and Kurt happen to be sitting at.

Kurt watches them with an odd sense of curiosity.

“Here they go,” Blaine sighs. “I give it twenty minutes before someone starts a catfight. That usually follows.”

Kurt’s still watching them, though, not really paying attention to the conversation. His eyes are a little glassy and Blaine sort of freaks out for a second because please god _no,_ do not let his boyfriend join the half-naked table dancers.

“No,” Blaine pleads. “Please no table dancing.”

Kurt blanches and laughs. “What?”

“You just — you look like you want to table dance and I — I _can’t,_ Kurt. I can’t watch you half-naked, dancing, doing some kind of strip tease—”

Kurt’s laughing again. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“— I just can’t, Kurt. I only have so much self-restraint. And that — that would be the end of it.”

Kurt stops laughing and gives him a serious look. “Why are you still _restraining_ , Blaine?” he asks quietly.

Blaine blinks. _Because I’m not a goddamn spider monkey,_ he thinks of saying. _I can’t shove you up against a wall and then have crazy drunken sex with you and still be able to look at myself in the mirror tomorrow morning._

“I’ll get us another drink,” he says instead. “Apple Sangria?”

Kurt sighs sadly and nods. “Thank you.”

When Blaine comes back with their drinks, Kurt’s not at their table anymore. It only takes him a few moments to scan the crowd and find him leaning against a wall, mid-discussion with one of the cater waiters. Blaine lets out a defeated sigh. He _feels_ defeated.

He heads over to them, though, and gives them both a weak smile as he passes Kurt’s drink to him.

Kurt smiles back at him, staring at Blaine expectantly.

Blaine just stands there.

Kurt waits for a few more minutes and when nothing happens, he leads them back towards their table.

Neither of them say anything for awhile.

The DJ starts playing some country song and Kurt clears his throat. “So — is he here? I told myself I wouldn’t ask but I can’t help but wonder.”

Blaine turns to face him. “Is who here?”

Kurt shrugs, not meeting Blaine’s eyes. “Your — your fling. Last year’s formal fling. Do you still see him around?”

Blaine huffs out a laugh. “My _what_?”

“Your fling,” he repeats, sounding annoyed that Blaine’s actually laughing at him. “You said everyone does it.”

Blaine gives him a confused look. “Okay, I didn’t mean _literally_. I — you know me, Kurt. Do I really seem like the kind of guy that gets super loaded and has a one-night stand?”

“No,” Kurt says quietly.

“But I _did_ get super loaded,” Blaine admits. “There was table dancing. And I lost a shoe.”

Kurt gives him a tiny smile. “Sounds like quite a story. I’m intrigued.”

“Sorry, you’ll have to get someone else to re-cap it. I was drunk enough to lose a shoe so I definitely can’t remember _how_ I lost it. Ask one of the guys when we get back.”

Kurt freezes. “Right. You can — you can go hang out with them, you know.”

Blaine cocks his head, confused. “What?”

“I just mean that you don’t have to spend the whole night sitting next to me and getting me drinks. You can spend time with them.”

Blaine stills. “Why, so you can go hit on the cater waiters?” he asks, keeping his voice even.

“What?” Kurt asks, blinking. “No, so that you don’t think — I don’t want to be _clingy_ , that’s all.”

He resists pointing out that he’s spent half this trip flirting with other guys and it’s sort of the polar opposite of being clingy. “Let’s go,” he says, standing up and offering Kurt his arm. “You said you’d save me a dance, remember?”

So they dance along to a few of the sentimental love ballads the DJ plays. Their coordination isn’t all that stellar, not after the amount of drinks they’ve had, but thankfully all they have to do is just stand there and hold onto each other. They break apart when Vanilla Ice starts to play and Blaine rests their foreheads together. “You really do look amazing,” he whispers.

Before Kurt can respond, Blaine’s being tugged away by Sam and ushered over to a corner of the dance floor for a bunch of pictures. Most of his friends are even drunker than he is and no one can really operate a camera so he’s assuming most of them will end up being pictures of the ceiling or someone’s shoe. After ten minutes or so, he untangles himself from everyone to make his way back to Kurt —

—who’s standing by that same goddamn wall talking to that same goddamn waiter. And seriously, Blaine is so over this shit.

He books it over to Kurt and grabs his wrist then yanks him out of the room until they’re in the middle of the hotel lobby. He keeps yanking until they’re in front of the elevators —

“Blaine,” Kurt says on an exhale. “What—?”

—and then Blaine just keeps on yanking at him until they’re inside the elevator and the door slides shut behind them.

He hits the button to their floor then shoves Kurt up against the wall, curling his hands around Kurt’s hips to keep him firmly in place. He presses up against him and holy shit, Kurt’s hard, god they _both_ are, and there are warning bells going off in his head that he shouldn’t be doing this, that Kurt will wake up in the morning full of regret when he realizes he got loaded and slept with his boyfriend for the first time while they were both plastered. He won’t be able to remember the details and Blaine will probably hate himself for being the possessive asshole that couldn’t keep it in his pants.

But he doesn’t give a shit about the warning bells, not right now.

They’re still kissing and Blaine’s squeezing Kurt’s hips so hard that he assumes Kurt will wake up with bruises. His mouth latches on to Kurt’s neck and and he sucks and bites and god, there’s going to be such a hickey in the morning and Kurt will probably be _pissed_.

Kurt’s fumbling with Blaine’s belt — _and oh my god, this is actually happening —_ when the elevator stops and the door slides open. Apparently, it’s not enough to deter Kurt because he’s still clawing at Blaine’s belt and trying to push his hands under Blaine’s jacket. When they get to their room, Kurt nearly drops the room card three times as he tries to open the door one-handed, Blaine’s mouth still on his and Blaine’s hands desperately trying to remove Kurt’s tie.

: :

_ (((Rule #22 : Every bro should be thankful for the invention of suits. _

“God, Kurt,” he says, frantically trying to unbutton Kurt’s jacket. “How are — is this glued shut? Where are the damn buttons?”

Kurt huffs out a laugh and bats Blaine’s hands away, trying to help.

It’s taking too long, though, and Blaine has seriously lost all patience. He starts pulling at the sleeves, ready to just rip the whole thing off because fuck it, he’ll just buy Kurt a new one.

“The suit,” Blaine says, still breathing heavy. “I hate this suit. Get it _off_ , Jesus Christ already.”

He pushes Kurt down on the bed, which is just counterproductive to the whole concept of undressing because getting Kurt out of his suit is even harder to do when he’s lying right on top of him. Blaine sits up until he’s totally straddling his boyfriend, and Kurt looks at him with wide eyes. Blaine reaches his breaking point and just tugs at the jacket hard enough until a few of the buttons come flying off. One comes right at him and hits him in the cheek.

Kurt lets out a soft laugh but Blaine freezes.

Five seconds later, he’s scrambling off Kurt and away from the bed. He scrubs a hand over his face, swallowing thickly.

“Blaine?” Kurt asks cautiously, propping himself up on his elbows.

Blaine wants to be sick. Kurt’s _drunk_ and Blaine’s actually _ripping off his clothes_ all because Kurt had a conversation with some other guy. What kind of boyfriend _is_ he?

“I — I have to go,” Blaine whispers. “I’ll be back.”

Kurt stares at him. “Are you serious?”

“I just need a minute,” he explains.

“Wait, Blaine, don’t—”

He books it out of the room and sits outside the hotel for twenty minutes. The cold air hits him hard and he realizes just how drunk he is.

When he gets back to the room, Kurt’s already passed out.)))

: :

On Monday morning, they don’t bring it up and Blaine wonders how much Kurt even remembers. It’s kind of a subdued day.

Later, they all head to a cheap Mexican bar for pitchers of strawberry margaritas and Corona. When it’s Blaine’s turn to buy, he waits patiently by the bar to order two more pitchers and watches Kurt with Santana’s blonde cheerleader. There’s a huge group of guys, clearly some kind of fraternity, that surround them and they’re all laughing and drinking and flirting and seriously _,_ will this never end?

“She’s good,” Santana suddenly says from somewhere to his right. “And so is he.”

Blaine startles. “Uh. What?”

“Quinn’s been playing the hard-to-get game this whole week. She’s good at it. And so is your boy.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, blinking. “He’s not playing hard to get. He’s already been … gotten.”

She laughs. “He’s been playing you all _week,_ Blaine, you seriously haven’t picked up on that?”

Blaine gives her an annoyed look. “He’s not playing me, Santana.”

She laughs again, not one of those happy laughs but one of those laughs that makes him feel like he’s the butt of some joke. “That’s sad,” she says. “That you can’t even see it.”

He bristles but doesn’t know how to respond.

She turns to face him, eyebrow raised. “You think it’s a coincidence that you’ve had him pressed up against every flat service since the bus dropped us off? Shit, I thoughtyou were smarter than that. Maybe I need a new fucking lab partner.”

Blaine’s only half listening to her. Two of the guys have kind of broken out of the circle and are now basically flanking Kurt.

She pauses, too, because most of the rest of them form an even tighter ring around Quinn.

Santana snorts. “This is such bullshit.”

Blaine glances over to his lab partner to see her narrowing her eyes at the the cheerleader and at the fraternity guys surrounding her as she grips her wine glass tightly.

“It’s a game,” Santana says. “A stupid fucking game. We get into one little fight about my, and I quote, ‘inability to commit’ and suddenly I’m following her across fucking state lines.”

Blaine watches her carefully. “Well then maybe you could … you know. Commit?” he suggests.

Santana turns to face him and she suddenly looks angry, like maybe she’s trying to overcompensate for the fact that ten seconds ago, she accidentally implied that she might actually _care_ about someone. “Oh like I need _your_ pity. My boyfriend’s not flirting with half of queer New York just to get a rise out of me.”

Blaine blinks and stares at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She rolls her eyes and lets out an annoyed sigh. “It means that he’s screwing with you, Blaine. He spends five minutes flirting with some douchebag in a muscle shirt and then you wind up eye-fucking him for the rest of the night.”

Blaine turns to watch Kurt again. He briefly looks up to meet Blaine’s eyes and gives him a small smile before looking back to one of the douchebags in a muscle shirt next to him.

“Okay,” Blaine says quietly. “So what am I supposed to be doing? Not pinning him against a wall, I’m assuming?”

“I don’t know,” she mutters, frustrated. “Like I know what the hell I’m doing anymore.”

Blaine watches Quinn and Kurt, both of them just  _ standing there _ while they get overtly hit on, Kurt shooting Blaine a look every few minutes and Quinn shooting Santana a look practically every ten seconds. “I don’t get it,” he says. “What’s the point to all of this?”

She shrugs, never taking her eyes off of Quinn. “Yours? He probably just wants you to throw him down on the nearest sanitized surface and have your dirty, filthy way with him.”

Blaine wrinkles his nose and doesn’t even want to try to figure out what her version of “dirty filthy way” means.

“They just want the power, Blaine. They don’t give a shit about those guys. They want us to want them, that’s all this is about.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, meeting Kurt’s eyes again from across the room.

“They’re stringing us along and the two of us are following right behind,” she says, irritated. “It’s pathetic.”

She turns on her heel to walk outside as Blaine continues to wait on his pitchers by the bar and watch Kurt. He keeps his eyes firmly trained on Blaine’s then slowly and deliberately takes off his cardigan. He’s still got like, three other layers on but suddenly his neck is exposed and the massive hickey Blaine left the night before is staring everyone right in the face.

Blaine’s eyes widen and embarrassment washes over him. He quickly grabs the pitchers, unceremoniously drops them onto the table, then grabs Kurt by the hand and pulls him away from the douchebags in the muscle shirts.

He stops in front of the little coat room by the deserted hostess station and briefly looks around to see if anyone is watching. He opens the door, tugs Kurt inside with him, then locks the door.

Kurt stares at him, trying not to smile, and lets Blaine push him against the back of the closet as a few heavy jackets fall off of their hangers.

“Why didn’t you hide that?” Blaine says breathlessly, leaning in close to kiss him. “I know you have scarves — why wouldn’t you cover it up?”

“I didn’t want to,” Kurt says in between kisses, sounding just as breathless. “I like it.”

Blaine bites at Kurt’s neck and lets his hands wander under his shirt. “It’s humiliating, Kurt,” he says. “It makes me look like an asshole.”

“It doesn’t,” Kurt argues, grabbing Blaine’s jaw to pull him closer for another messy kiss. “It’s kind of hot.”

“It makes me look like I think I _own_ you, Kurt,” Blaine says miserably before leaning in again because god, he is physically incapable of not kissing him right now. “Which we both know I don’t.”

Kurt hums against Blaine’s mouth and doesn’t say anything.

“And it makes me look pathetic,” he continues in between the frantic kisses, “like you’ve got all the power here.”

“Which we both know I _do,”_ Kurt says with a teasing lilt.

Blaine freezes and pulls back.

Kurt’s staring at his mouth.

“Is this — is this _fun_ for you?” Blaine asks, hurt.

“What?” Kurt asks, smile slowly fading.

Blaine blinks. “Santana was right. You’ve been playing me this whole week.”

He scoffs. “I wasn’t _playing_ you.”

He reaches out to tug Blaine close again but Blaine takes a few steps back.

Kurt frowns. “I — I wasn’t. I mean, I wasn’t trying to,” he says, sounding concerned. “It’s just — I kept hearing what you said last week. About those three things you wanted me to remember.”

Blaine gives him a confused look.

“How I shouldn’t be clingy so you could spend time with your friends. And how I just needed to deal with it when everyone started flirting with you. And then you made it _perfectly_ clear that even though we’d be spending a weekend together in a hotel in New York, I shouldn’t expect any kind of physical relationship.”

“That’s not how you were supposed to take any of those things,” Blaine says quietly. “You’re wrong on all three accounts.”

Kurt sighs, not listening. “And then the first night, with that guy at the bar, you saw us talk for ten seconds and suddenly you were all over me and — it was an accident, Blaine. I didn’t know you’d get like that.”

“But after that? It was on purpose?” Blaine asks, voice strained.

Kurt swallows. “I didn’t know you were this upset, I swear. Just suddenly, those things weren’t an issue anymore. I wasn’t worried about being clingy since you were constantly near me. And we were making very promising developments in our physical relationship.”

Blaine takes another step back. “I’ve been miserable, Kurt. Watching you do this. And you were doing it on _purpose.”_

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Kurt says, eyes wide, a little panicky.

“How would _you_ have felt?” Blaine asks, sounding wounded. “How would you have felt if I did that to you?”

When Kurt doesn’t say anything right away, Blaine unlocks the door and heads back to join the rest of the fraternity.

After they get back to the hotel room, Blaine lies down on his side of the bed and Kurt stares at him, hesitant and timid like he’s actually worried that Blaine might make him sleep on the floor.

“Come lie down,” he says softly. “We have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Kurt slides under the covers and that night, he’s the one clinging tightly.

: : :

On Tuesday, once the bus drops them off in front of the house, Blaine laces his fingers with Kurt’s and quietly says, “Don’t leave? Mike’s going to Tina’s so maybe you could stay for a bit.”

Kurt nods. “Of course,” he says, just as quiet.

They don’t talk. Instead, they curl into each other and tangle their legs and take a two hour nap in Blaine’s bed. When they wake up, everything seems a bit more back to normal.

Kurt blinks up at him blearily. “I really am sorry, Blaine,” he whispers. “I didn’t know you were so bothered.”

“It was just hard to watch,” Blaine tells him as Kurt shifts around to rest his head on Blaine’s chest. “Guys basically coming out of the woodwork to hit on you and you just … letting them.”

Kurt’s quiet for a moment. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose to be spiteful. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Blaine says. “But you were still doing it on purpose.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything.

“Please don’t try to — I don’t know. Don’t manipulate me,” Blaine says quietly. “It wasn’t fun. And I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“You wouldn’t, I know,” Kurt agrees, voice shaky with emotion. He holds Blaine a little tighter.

They settle into a peaceful silence until Blaine shifts to reach over into the drawer of his nightstand.

“There’s something I want to give you,” he tells Kurt quietly. He hands over a small box.

Kurt sits up and untangles himself as he opens it. Inside is a small black and white pin with the three letters of his fraternity in the middle. He looks up at Blaine, quizzical. “What’s this?”

“It’s my pin. It’s — I’m pinning you.”

Kurt arches an eyebrow but Blaine’s too nervous and tense to fake a smile.

“It’s sort of a big deal in the Greek world,” he explains. “Giving someone your pin.”

Which is the understatement of the century because pinning someone is like, one step below proposing. He’s not saying that part out loud, though, because hello, they’ve only known each other for six months and he’s not about to scare the shit out of Kurt.

“Ah,” Kurt says, running his fingers over the pin. “So like a Greek promise ring?”

He’s teasing and Blaine’s face falls because yeah, that’s basically what it is.

Kurt notices and blinks. “Oh.”

Blaine’s quiet.

“Well, I love it,” Kurt says softly. “Thank you.”

Blaine shifts closer to him and finally smiles. “It means you can wear my letters now, by the way. That’s how that works.”

Kurt raises his eyebrow again. “What?”

“Sweaters, t-shirts, jackets, you name it,” Blaine teases. “My frat-wear is now _your_ frat-wear.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Maybe a tie?” Blaine tries, still grinning. “Seeing you wear the Greek letters would be pretty hot.”

Kurt rearranges them both until they’re lying back down, his head resting on Blaine’s chest again. “So I belong to you now?” he asks softly. “Is that it?”

Blaine’s quiet. “No. More like I belong to _you_.”

They lie like that for awhile and Blaine’s almost falling back asleep when Kurt says, “I wish I had something to give to you. Something that shows I belong to you, too.”

Blaine lets out a humorless laugh and ghosts his fingers along the hickey in Kurt’s neck. “I think this showcases it quite clearly.”

“I really am sorry,” Kurt says again. “I just wanted you to want me.”

“I _do_ want you,” Blaine tells him emphatically. “I just didn’t want us to take a huge step in our relationship while drunk in a hotel.”

Kurt shifts to face him, resting his chin on Blaine’s chest and watching him carefully. “How about while sober in your room after telling me you belong to me?” he whispers. “Is that better?”

Blaine blinks rapidly. “Yeah,” he answers, swallowing thickly. “That’s better.”

: : :

They don’t leave Blaine’s room until he gets a text from Sam saying that they ordered pizza. It takes them forever because every time Kurt tries to put his clothes back on, Blaine takes them right off again. He doesn’t stop until both of their stomachs start to growl.

When they get downstairs, Blaine takes a seat on the couch and grabs a piece of pizza from the box sitting on Artie’s lap then looks up to see Artie gaping at Kurt. The second Kurt leaves to grab a drink from the kitchen, Artie turns to Blaine, eyes wide.

“Holy shit, Blaine pinned Kurt.”

Finn groans. “I’m trying to forget, thanks.”

“Yeah, you straddling your boyfriend in the back of a restaurant, that’s a picture I’ll never get out of my head,” Puck adds.

“No, like _legit_ pinned him. Kurt’s wearing the pin right now!”

“God, shut up,” Blaine says. “Keep your voice down.”

Sam punches his arm. “What the hell, dude? You’re the only guy I know that would do that. The week is supposed to be about like, meaningless hookups and drunken mistakes and you top it off by pinning your boyfriend?”

“You’re so fucking whipped,” Puck says.

When Kurt walks back into the room holding two water bottles, he pauses awkwardly when he sees everyone staring at him.

“Holy shit, you _did_ pin him, are you serious?” Finn asks, eyes wide.

Kurt gives him a defensive look. “I’ll take care of it.”

Finn’s jaw drops. “Seriously, Kurt? Your boyfriend basically just proposed to you and you’re acting like it’s no big deal?”

Kurt’s eyes dart over to Blaine’s. “What?”

He gives Kurt a weak smile. “Uh. Like I said, it’s a pretty big deal to the Greeks.”

“Oh,” he says, suddenly breathless.

Later, as he walks Kurt to the door, he gives him a sheepish smile. “You’re not giving it back, right? Now that you know how big of a deal it is?”

“Never,” Kurt says immediately.

They smile at each other and lean in for one last kiss before Kurt heads back to his dorm.

“But — you should probably meet my dad and Carole soon,” Kurt suggests. “Because I have a feeling Finn is texting them about this right now.”

Blaine breaks out into a wide grin. “Can’t wait.”

: : : : :

_ Rule #28 : A bro doesn’t turn a real bro away. _

He can, however, definitely wait before introducing Kurt to _his_ family. Well, part of his family.

Blaine’s in his room trying to cram for a pop quiz that he just _knows_ is coming — and seriously, a pop quiz? Shouldn’t that stop after high school?

His phone rings and he answers it without thinking because no one but Kurt would have a reason to call him at eleven p.m. on a Wednesday.

“Hi,” Blaine says as he answers the call. He tries to sound as flirty as possible because hey, maybe Kurt will help him make flashcards again, totally worth a shot.

The last person he’s expecting is his brother.

“So I talked to Mom and Dad last night,” Cooper says, no pleasantries. “They said they met the BF. And I was wondering—”

“No,” Blaine says immediately. He doesn’t know what Cooper wants but he _does_ know that he’s saying no to it, whatever it may be.

“Come _on_ , little brother, it’s only for one night,” Cooper tries to argue.

“No,” Blaine repeats. “No way.”

Cooper lets out a dramatic sigh over the phone. “You’re not still mad about the Lego thing, are you? I swear, I never meant to knock your little tower over.”

Blaine narrows his eyes. “You dismantled an entire Lego city, Cooper. Don’t try and pretend it was an accident.”

“So it _is_ about that, wow.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I was  _ five _ , okay. I’ve moved past the Legos.”

Cooper’s quiet for a moment. “Okay then why not? I just need to crash there for one night. I’ll even sleep on the floor — although, FYI, that’s kind of a tool move, making your guest sleep on the floor —”

“Because you can’t,” Blaine says. “Just … because.”

“Seriously?” he asks, skeptical. “You won’t let your older brother stay for just one night? What kind of monster are you? I just want to hang with my brother, meet his boyfriend, maybe—”

“No,” Blaine rushes to add. “Definitely not.”

There’s silence on the line. “I can’t meet your boyfriend?”

Blaine shakes his head. “No. No, you can’t.”

Cooper’s quiet again. “You’re ashamed of me, is that it? People  _ love _ me, Blaine. I’ll be on my best behavior. I won’t tell him about the time you threw up on the mall Santa when you were seven. Or how you still cry at the end of  _ Monsters, Inc.” _

“No, that’s — just, no, let it go,” Blaine sighs. “Find a hotel or something.”

“Why not?” Cooper asks since he’s totally incapable of letting anything go.

“You just  _ can’t _ , okay?”

“Yeah but _why?”_ he asks.

Blaine lets out a resigned sigh. “He — he likes those commercials, okay?”

Cooper pauses. “My commercials?”

Blaine lies down on his bed and stares at the ceiling. “Yeah, your commercials.”

“He’s a fan of credit reports?” he asks, confused.

Blaine rolls his eyes. “He’s a fan of  _you_ .”

Cooper perks up. “Really? Okay, well, when I come out, I’ll sign one of my headshots for him. Do you think he’d like the black and white one with my pensive face? Or the full color one where I’m looking meaningfully off camera? I mean, I guess he could have _both—_ ”

Blaine rolls his eyes again. “You’re not giving him a headshot. You’re not even  _meeting_ him, Coop.”

“You can’t hide him, forever, Bl-”

“Not forever,” Blaine agrees. “You can meet him if we get married. Like, after we get back from the honeymoon.”

Cooper gives him an annoyed sigh. “You’re serious.”

Blaine nods, still staring at the ceiling. “Definitely.”

“What if I sleep —”

“No,” Blaine says.

“Don’t you have a couch—”

“Not happening.”

Cooper sighs. “Okay, well what if —”

“Still no.”

: : :

The conversation goes on for another ten minutes. Try as he might, Cooper doesn’t even come close to convincing Blaine that he should get to meet his brother’s boyfriend.

Three days later, Blaine catches Kurt humming the stupid commercial jingle under his breath and he grimaces.

He’s totally fine with his boyfriend and his brother meeting, oh for  _sure._ It’ll just have to wait until like, their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.

: : : : :

_ Rule #8 : A bro’s proper response to a task is always, “Challenge accepted.” Unless it involves bodily harm and then it’s, “You have fun with that.” _

Spring Break is kind of depressing. Kurt goes to Florida and Blaine … does not.

“This is so boring,” Blaine says to himself.

“Fuck, is it going to be like this for the next six days?” Puck asks, turning the volume on the TV up a little louder.

“He’s only been gone for like, five hours,” Sam points out. “You can’t seriously be _that_ bored.”

Blaine sighs and leans back into the couch. “But I am.”

: : :

It’s weird because Kurt’s only spent the night in Blaine’s bed a handful of times and yet it somehow still manages to feel lonely that first night.

: : :

On Saturday, Finn stares at him over the table while Blaine pushes some scrambled eggs around on his plate. Blaine’s got his elbow propped up on the table and his cheek resting on his fist so he’s pretty sure he looks like the perfect image of a pouting five year old.

“Dude,” Finn says finally. “Shut _up_. You’ve already talked about him three times and it’s not even noon.”

“I can’t help it,” he sighs.

Puck pauses in front of the refrigerator. “Then I’m not going to be able to help my fist colliding with your face.”

Blaine shoots him a dejected look.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Puck concedes, rolling his eyes. “I won’t actually resort to physical violence. But I _will_ straight-up lock you out of the house.”

Blaine sighs again.

Finn gives him a considering look. “I’ll make you a deal,” he says. “If you go three days without mentioning him, I’ll give you a hundred dollars.”

Blaine meets his eyes, skeptical. “You’re seriously bribing me?”

“Yeah,” Finn says before pausing. “But actually, I only have about fifty bucks.”

“I’ll throw some cash in,” Artie adds.

“I’m not taking your money,” Blaine tells them, insulted. “That’s weird and borderline disturbing.”

“Okay, then don’t take _actual_ money,” Finn says. “I’ll — I’ll buy you a hotel room for the night or something.”

Blaine blinks.

“And I’ll score you a bottle of wine,” Artie suggests.

“This is _awesome_ ,” Sam says, oddly excited for some reason. “I’ll throw in a gift card to a fancy restaurant. You know, Applebee’s or whatever.”

Blaine wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Okay, now this has morphed into full-on disturbing.”

“Why?” Finn asks. “He’ll love it.” He pauses and watches Blaine carefully. “You two _have_ done it by now, right? You know, like … _it_.”

“Really?” Puck says, frowning. “You think they’re doing it? The way they’re always so hands-off in public, you’d think they were like, Ken dolls down there.”

“Uh, _what_ ,” Sam says. “You do remember the two of them throwing each other against walls a few weeks ago, right?”

Artie raises an eyebrow. “And the peep show they put on in the back of a restaurant?”

“And hello, you can _hear_ them when Mike’s not here and they’re all alone in his room,” Sam continues.

“Yeah _that_ sucks,” Finn says sadly. “I wish these walls were thicker. Or that I didn’t have the room directly next door to to my brother’s boyfriend.”

“Stop,” Blaine tells them as he stands. He can feel his face heating up. “We’re not discussing the intimate details of my relationship with my boyfriend. And I’m not accepting _hush money_ as motivation to not talk about him.”

The whole room is quiet.

“Holy shit,” Artie says finally. “You don’t think you can do it.”

“What?” Blaine says.

“You’re not doing it because you don’t _want_ to do it,” Artie clarifies. “But because you don’t think you _can_.”

“That’s not why,” Blaine argues, still annoyed. “It’s because it’s creepy. Normal fraternity brothers wouldn’t pitch in money to buy a hotel room for another fraternity brother.”

Finn shrugs. “Maybe not but if _you_ were normal then we wouldn’t have to. Normal guys don’t go on and on about their boyfriend even though other people are literally giving him money to stop talking.”

“You can’t do it,” Puck says with a smirk. “Artie’s right, you don’t think you can do it.”

Blaine stares down at them, defensive. “I — that’s not true. I could, if I wanted to.” When no one says anything, he repeats, “I _could_.”

Puck is unimpressed. “Then prove it.”

Blaine eventually lets out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, _fine.”_

Everyone cheers and they high five each other and Blaine walks out of the kitchen. “You’re all a bunch of assholes,” he says quietly.

: : :

On Sunday afternoon, they argue over which movie to watch. Artie wants some weird sci-fi film, Puck wants an action movie, Sam pushes for one of those cliché sport ones about the ragtag underdogs, and Finn suggests comedy. They eventually settle on _21 Jump Street_ and Blaine groans. “Kurt and I just watched that a few days ago. Something else?”

Artie sighs and Puck rolls his eyes. It takes Blaine a few moments to realize what he did.

“Sorry,” he says, cringing. “I’ll start over tomorrow.”

: : :

Monday night, they start discussing the last big party they’ll throw a few days before final exams and if it should have a theme. Then they start talking about the one they’ll have at the beginning of the fall semester once they’ve inducted their new pledges. _Then_ they start talking about the yearly epic Halloween party.

“Have you thought about your costume yet?” Artie asks.

Blaine laughs. “It’s _March_.”

“You have to plan this shit early,” Artie says, eyes serious.

“I think I’ll go with Captain America,” Sam tells them. “Or Superman. Or Thor. Or—”

“Yeah, a superhero, we get it,” Artie says, rolling his eyes. “How original.”

Blaine mulls it over. “Maybe I’ll do a joint one this year; that could be fun. You know, Bert and Ernie, peanut butter and jelly, Buzz and Woody. Although I’m sure Kurt will come up with a way better idea than those.”

Finn shoots him a skeptical look. “You seriously think Kurt would go as peanut butter?” He shakes his head sadly and sighs. “Plus, I already heard him telling Rachel that you’d look good as a cop.”

Blaine flushes. “Yeah? He said that?”

Finn sighs again but a little less dramatically. “He didn’t say ‘good’. He actually said _like a dreamy centerfold_ — his words, not mine!” he rushes to add. “So if I were you, I’d be prepared for cops and robbers.”

Blaine swallows thickly at the visual because Kurt would make a _hot_ robber — wearing a pair of his black skinny jeans, the ones that look painted on, and maybe a black turtleneck, black leather boots — but really, Kurt would somehow find a way to make a hot peanut butter, too.

He shifts uncomfortably because he should probably stop thinking about these things while he’s hanging out with his friends and a little … _pent up_ after having gone almost five whole days without so much as touching his boyfriend. His boyfriend that he’s not even allowed to talk about —

Oh. Shit.

Blaine looks around the room and gives all of them a weak smile. “Uh. I’ll start again tomorrow?”

: : :

On Tuesday morning, he mopes over a bowl of cereal.

“Do we have any more Fruity Pebbles?” Sam asks he walks into the kitchen.

“Or Coco Puffs?” Artie asks as he wheels in behind him.

And instead of answering a simple question with a simple yes/no response, Blaine says, “Kurt never even called last night. He _always_ calls.”

“Goddammit!” Puck calls from the dining room. “I heard that!”

Sam sighs. “Dude, It’s not even ten a.m.”

Blaine’s phone lights up then and he grins. “Gotta go, Kurt’s calling.”

“Seriously? Twice?” Puck calls again.

“This is just sad to watch,” he hears Artie say as Blaine books it out of the kitchen.

He passes by Mike on his way to the stairs and says, “Hey, stay down here for awhile; I just want like, ten minutes of privacy to talk with Kurt.”

“Three times?” Puck yells out. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Blaine ignores him. “Hi,” he says breathlessly as he answers the call.

“Hi,” Kurt says back. Blaine can hear the smile in his voice.

“I miss you,” he says immediately.

“Me, too,” Kurt tells him. “And I’m so sorry I didn’t call you last night but there was a fight, Blaine. An actual real _bar_ fight.”

Blaine tenses, instantly concerned. “You got into a bar fight?”

Kurt scoffs. “Hardly. Two idiots on a Bud Light bender started a fight over a girl and then someone whipped out a knife.”

Blaine gives him a confused look even though Kurt can’t see it. “Why do you sound excited?”

“A _bar fight,”_ he repeats. “The cops came and I got questioned as a _witness_. It was exhilarating.”

“Okay,” Blaine says slowly, huffing out a small laugh. “You’re crazy.”

“So how was _your_ night?”

And instead of answering a simple question with a simple monosyllabic answer, Blaine says, “You’d look hot as a robber. For Halloween, I mean.”

Kurt’s quiet. “I’m not sure how to respond to that. Thank you?”

“But I’d like to re-negotiate our once-a-year hickey rule. I should get to leave one somewhere visible before the Halloween party.”

Kurt’s quiet again. “I’m open to negotiations,” he says softly.

And his voice, _god_ , Blaine starts thinking things that he can’t afford to be thinking, not when Mike could come back up to their room any minute.

They talk for a few more minutes until Kurt’s forced off the phone by one of his friends, apparently to drag him off to the beach. And shit, Kurt shirtless in swim trunks, Blaine’s about to go out of his damn mind with these visuals.

Only a few more days.

: : :

Wednesday looks promising. He almost makes it the whole day.

“Oh,” Blaine says after he finishes eating his piece of pizza. “Finn, I almost forgot. Kurt told me to tell you that Burt and your mom are coming up next weekend to take you guys out so he said to make sure you’re not hung-over.”

Finn rolls his eyes and Puck lets out a disgusted sigh. One by one, they all filter out of the room and Mike says, “This is sad and disappointing, I won’t lie.”

Artie shakes his head. “Lame, Blaine.”

Blaine stares after them and he’s immediately apologetic. “Hey, I’m sorry, guys!” he calls out after them.

: : :

On Thursday, he wakes up to Mike and Sam hovering above him.

“Oh my god,” he chokes out, scrambling to sit up.

“Don’t say a single word,” Sam warns, not even bothering to apologize for being so unbelievably creepy.

“Oh my _god,”_ Blaine repeats, wide eyed. “Were you watching me sleep? What is _wrong_ with the people in this house?”

“This is literally your last chance,” Mike says, blatantly ignoring him. “Kurt gets back on Sunday so you have to make it through today, tomorrow, and Saturday to win this.”

Blaine’s heart rate returns to normal and he nods. “I know.”

“So we’re helping you out,” Sam explains. “Talk as little as you can all day, okay? And if you look like you’re about to blow it, one of us will do something to stop you.”

Blaine eyes them warily.

“Like interrupt you,” Mike says.

“Or just straight up kick you,” Sam says.

Mike side-eyes him.

Blaine hesitates. “Yeah, okay.”

: : :

Surprisingly and against all odds, Blaine makes it entirely through Thursday and almost all the way through Friday with their help. But then they go to a bar Friday night and his winning streak just about ends.

He’s ordering his second beer when his phone starts buzzing. “Oh—”

Mike clears his throat loudly.

“—I’m going outside for a minute. K—”

And then suddenly, Blaine’s sprawled out on the floor, his stool kicked out from under him. It works, though, because instead of saying Kurt’s name aloud, he’s lying on the gross bar floor, his arm at a weird angle under his body. All he can think think is, _God I hope my wrist isn’t broken._

: : :

His wrist is broken.

Blaine spends half the night in the ER with an apologetic Sam and a totally freaked-out Finn. Once he’s cleared for discharge, they drive him back, tuck him into bed, and force feed him some pain pills.

: : :

He wakes up on Saturday to see Finn sitting in a kitchen chair that he must have dragged into Blaine’s bedroom.

“Hey,” Finn says quietly.

Blaine’s wrist is throbbing and he tries to clear his head, still groggy from the pain meds.

“I answered your phone last night when Kurt called. I hope that’s cool.”

Blaine blinks and doesn’t say anything. He’s never been high before. Is this what it feels like to be high?

He sees Sam hovering in the doorway. “I am _so_ sorry, man.”

Blaine’s still quiet and wills the room to stop spinning. He is never accidentally getting high again.

Shit, his arm hurts. He’s never accidentally breaking his wrist again, either.

“I picked up your prescription from the pharmacy,” Sam says as he takes a few steps into the room. “They’re right next to you.”

“And here,” Puck says, following behind Sam. “I made you soup.”

Finn eyes him.

“Fine, I _bought_ you soup.” Puck pauses. “Okay, whatever, _Artie_ bought you soup. I just microwaved it.”

It’s Sam’s turn to eye him.

“Okay, _Mike_ heated it, fuck you both.”

Blaine eats the soup and then someone shoves the pain pills towards him and that’s basically all he remembers. His alarm goes off a few hours later and he hears someone say, “Here, it’s time for more medicine,” and then whoever it is practically forces them into his mouth. Needless to say, Blaine spends most of the day in a medicated coma.

: : :

On Sunday, he feels drastically better and his wrist is more of a dull ache then a throbbing pain.

He looks at Finn hopefully, still sitting in the kitchen chair and reading an ESPN magazine. “Well?” he asks him. “Did I make it three days?”

Finn looks up and gives him a blank stare. “Uh, _no_.”

Blaine’s face falls and he looks towards Mike who’s sitting on his bed doing some kind of school work. Mike meets his eyes and says, “Definitely no.”

Blaine lets out a defeated sigh. “Was I even close?”

“Uh, _no,”_ Finn repeats. “You spent a good fifteen minutes listing your top ten favorite things about Kurt. Four of them I never need to hear again.”

“Part of it was in song,” Mike adds.

Blaine lies back down and stares at the ceiling. “Oh.”

The room is quiet for a few minutes.

“You tried to write haikus about his smile,” Finn tells him.

Blaine turns his head. “That … is embarrassing,” he says, frowning. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it wasn’t embarrassing until you started with the limericks,” Finn replies.

Blaine blinks.

“You are no poet,” Mike says.

A few more pain pills are shoved at him again and the next thing he knows, he’s waking up to Kurt staring down at him, concern written all over his face. “Are you okay?”

Blaine smiles. “Hey, you.”

Kurt weakly returns the smile. “Seriously, are you okay?”

Blaine shifts on his bed to make space, wincing a little when he moves his wrist too soon.

“S _top_ ,” Kurt hisses. “Don’t move it; what are you _doing?”_

“Making room for you,” Blaine says. “I’ll be careful. Just lie down next to me.”

Kurt watches him warily. “Okay but — god, stop jostling it, Blaine!”

A few minutes later, Kurt’s beside him, head resting on Blaine’s chest.

“So what’s this about a hotel room?” Kurt asks a few minutes later.

“What?” he says back.

He feels Kurt shrug. “I don’t know. Finn said something about getting us a hotel room? And Sam gave me a gift card to Applebee’s.” He pauses. “It was … strange.”

Blaine frowns. “Oh. Really?”

Kurt doesn’t push the issue which is kind of sad because it means that he assumes Blaine’s fraternity brothers are weird enough to buy them a hotel room for no discernible reason.

: : :

Finn tells him later that they’re cutting him some slack because anything he said while in a medicated coma really can’t be held against him.

“Plus,” Finn says. “A couple of the limericks weren’t all that bad.”

Blaine shakes his head to himself. He has some weird friends.

: : : : :

And finally _\- Rule #20 : If you text your guy to see if he will send thou sexy pics, don’t expect a positive response. Also: just don’t do it._

It’s four days before the official beginning of summer break and Blaine’s almost dreading it. They’re sitting on the couch in the practically empty frat house, Kurt reading something on his phone while Blaine lies with his head in Kurt’s lap, watching baseball on TV.

“So I found a bro code online,” Kurt tells him.

“A what?” Blaine asks, eyes still on the TV.

“ _A Survival Guide to Dating a Frat Guy_ ,” Kurt reads. “I’m preparing myself for the next two years.”

Blaine rolls his eyes.

“It’s telling me that I’m second — that I will always _be_ second — to your fraternity and the sooner I learn that, the healthier we’ll be.”

Blaine scoffs. “Whatever. Stop reading. Google search for another survival guide.”

Kurt doesn’t listen, though, and keeps reading. “It says I should always keep you guessing as to where I am and what I’m doing. It’ll keep you interested, I guess.”

Blaine keeps his eyes on the game. “Please don’t do that,” he sighs. “This is a dumb guide.”

Kurt hums, still reading. “It warns me that your whole frat will know everything about our relationship including every fight and — oh, it says here you’ll want to brag about our sex life so I should make sure to keep it interesting.”

“Give me your phone,” Blaine says, shifting to look up at Kurt. “You’re not reading that anymore. It’s stupid.”

“Ooh, but this one is good,” Kurt continues, holding the phone just out of Blaine’s reach. “It says I need to make sure that I look like an _eight_ at all times because if I do, you’ll have no need for wandering eyes. It says you’ll be less likely to cheat on me but then in parentheses it clarifies ‘ _most times’_. Isn’t that just heart-warming.”

“Kurt,” Blaine groans, making another attempt to grab his phone. “Seriously, stop. Find a better guide. One that talks about important things.”

Kurt pauses. “Such as…”

He shrugs. “One that offers pointers on how to politely fake it if your fraternity boyfriend is a terrible cook and tries to make you cookies. Or how to effectively persuade your American fraternity boyfriend that you love him just as he is if he ever tries to imitate the sexy foreign accent of your Spanish professor or your British T.A.”

Kurt blinks down at him, quiet for a few moments. “You,” he whispers, smiling. “What am I going to do with you?”

Blaine grins up at him and shrugs again.

Later, Kurt falls asleep during the seventh inning and Blaine tries his hand at Google searching. It’s  _horrible_ . No matter what words he uses, no matter what phrases he puts into the search engine, it’s horrible. Even the websites proclaiming they have pro/con guides to dating someone in a fraternity have terrible  _terrible_ pros. If Blaine was contemplating dating someone in a fraternity, the internet would have successfully talked him out of it. He tries to find a website, just one measly article, that he can send to Kurt to show him all of the perks of dating a frat guy but according to the internet? There are no perks.

“Okay,” Blaine says calmly to Kurt’s sleeping form. “If I can just convince you to never use the internet again, we should be fine.”

: : :

When Kurt wakes, Blaine tugs him upstairs to the third floor of the house.

“This is my room next year,” Blaine says, throwing the door open. “It’s a single.”

Kurt eyes him warily, still looking a little sleepy. “Okay,” he says slowly.

“I have my own sink. And a bigger bed. And look, I have so much more space. And a window,” he continues, giving Kurt a searching look. “You could bring an easel or a desk or something, whatever you want.”

“Okay?” Kurt says, confused.

Blaine slumps his shoulders. “There are good things about dating someone in a fraternity, Kurt.”

“I didn’t say there weren’t,” he replies, still confused.

Blaine sighs. “According to the internet, there aren’t.”

Kurt blinks and takes a few steps forward. “Well the internet doesn’t know my boyfriend. He’s different.”

Blaine gives him a hopeful look. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Kurt agrees quietly.

He steps closer until he’s in Kurt’s personal space and wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist. “So you like fraternities now then?” he asks with a flirty grin.

But Kurt doesn’t give him a flirty smile in return. Instead, he watches Blaine with sincere eyes and softly says, “The great be-all-end-all one true love of my life is in a fraternity.”

Blaine blinks. “Oh. Right.”

Kurt drapes his arms over Blaine’s shoulders and Blaine pulls him a bit closer, tighter. “That’s plenty reason for me to like fraternities.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, _one_ fraternity,” Kurt clarifies.

Blaine watches him some more.

“Okay, _one_ person in _one_ fraternity.”

Blaine gives him a slow smile. “I’ll take it.”

They smile at each other before leaning in for a long kiss.

“I never thought I’d be dreading summer vacation,” Blaine sighs. “It’ll be forever until we get to see each other again.”

“We’ll see each other,” Kurt promises. “I’m not going the whole summer without seeing you.”

“I know,” he says with another sigh.

“Just two weeks,” Kurt says. “I know my dad wants to meet you again and Carole’s already working on some elaborate dinner menu.”

Blaine grins again. “Two weeks? You mean twelve days and four hours.”

“Yes,” Kurt laughs quietly. “That’s what I meant.”

: : :

Blaine’s only been home for a few days when he gets a little homesick for school — for the house, for his brothers, for his boyfriend.

He sends Kurt a text that night: _I haven’t seen you in awhile. Maybe you should send me a fun pic. ;)_

He’s laughing as he sends it because yeah right, like he actually expects Kurt to send him pervy pictures from his cell phone. So obviously his heart skips a few beats when he gets a text that just says: _Okay, here you go._

Blaine swallows thickly, practically thrumming with nerves.

And when the picture comes through, Blaine’s eyes widen and he almost drops his phone. It’s a picture of Kurt wearing a snug t-shirt, the three letters of Blaine’s fraternity emblazoned tall and wide right in the middle.

He takes a few moments to send out _Oh my god, Kurt, that is like the hottest thing ever._

Kurt sends back: _I’m glad you like it. Wait until you see the new cardigan with your letters displayed prominently in the the corner. I now have three colors._

Blaine’s eyes actually get wider and he’s trying to think of a coherent response when he receives one last text.

_And Blaine? Wait until you see my new yoga pants. :)_


End file.
